


No Boundaries

by LoveThemWinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alluded to that Dean could/would also bottom, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst, Bonding, Bottom!Sam, Creature!Sam, Fuck Or Die, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Internal Conflict, M/M, Non-Wincest, Romance, hunter!dean, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:12:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 54,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemWinchesters/pseuds/LoveThemWinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is a hunter. Sam, on the other hand, is not. He’s more like one of the things Dean hunts. Because of the secrets they keep from each other, neither knows what the other is until it’s too late… Can they work past their differences? Dean is 28, Sam is 24.</p><p>Warnings:  Story contains explicit M/M scenes – Please do not read if you don’t like or are uncomfortable with this content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic comes from the the old adage: Love knows no boundaries...true love does not accept limitations, is limitless, can overcome the odds.
> 
>  
> 
> As usual, Supernatural and the Winchesters do not belong to me, although it would be nice if they did, but unfortunately they are the property of CW and Eric Kripke.
> 
> Please note: I do most of my own editing/beta'ing. Bear with me. If something is amiss, I take full responsibility.

 

  

 

His breath came in harsh, ragged gasps as he broke out of the trees to cut across the gravel road; the cool evening breeze blew his wild, dark hair across his pale and sweaty face as he glanced behind, looking for his pursuers. He didn’t see anyone. Actually, he hadn’t heard anyone for a while either, not since he’d unwittingly fallen down that steep drop from the upper trail a mile or so back. The men must have continued around the long way. But he couldn’t risk it. A moment later, he disappeared into the line of darkening pines on the other side.

Running only sped up the poison’s progress, but he also knew that if he stopped, he’d most likely be signing his own death warrant. Faint and dizzy, he kept moving as fast as he could, even if he was starting to stumble over his own two feet as well as what debris lay strewn across the forest floor. Pine branches stung as they slapped out at his face; he could taste the bitter sap in his mouth and feel its stickiness on his skin; they clawed at his clothing, tearing them. He wasn’t going to last much longer at this pace; that he knew without a doubt. His body’s normal healing properties weren’t working properly due to the poison traveling through his veins and he seriously doubted he’d be able to shift even if he did make it back to the lake without being slaughtered first. The iron tipped bolt from the crossbow that was still lodged in his shoulder pretty much guaranteed that.

All of a sudden his route spit him out into an unexpected clearing. He brought himself up to a halt and looked around; his heart was pounding in his ears and his weakening body trembled as he stood there. At the far end of it was a cabin. It was nothing fancy, but looked to be moderately well-kept. He could see that it was dark inside and there were no cars in the driveway. _Was he that desperate?_ “Fuck it.” The words came out slurred as he spoke them out loud. The lake – the doorway to his home – was still too far away; there wasn’t enough time to make his window; there was no choice at this point. With one last look over his shoulder, he headed around the back of the structure.

As he approached the house, his vision began to gray out; the trees and stars started to swim around him. He fell to his knees just mere feet from the back stoop. _I’m so dead,_ was his final thought as he collapsed onto the cool grass below him, his consciousness fading to nothing.

~ * ~

Meanwhile…

 _Tickticktick…_ Dean was sitting on the crappy and unyielding bed staring at the clock high up on the wall outside his cell, watching the second hand slowly travel round and round. For the last three hours he had been watching the damn thing.

When he heard the sound of keys jangling, he turned his gaze away from it and looked down the hall. _About fucking time_. How they expected anyone to exist in a six by eight foot space for more than two minutes was beyond him. He stood up, approached the door, and waited for the deputy.

“Sorry for the wait, Mr. Luttrell, sir.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just let me outta here.”

The deputy flipped through the set of keys until he found the one he was looking for and a moment later the yellow-painted bars of the cell door slid open with a loud and jarring clang. “The sheriff had to verify your story with the powers that be. With those killings lately, it’s been a little crazy around here; you can’t be too careful. He hopes you and the Bureau understand.”

Dean was hungry, tired, and just in an all-out foul mood for being hauled in. One stupid mistake and he had found himself in cuffs; he hadn’t had any proper I.D. on him at the time either. Thank god Bobby had been home to answer when he got his one phone call. The man could work wonders.

“Just point me in the direction of the property room so I can get my stuff,” Dean huffed as he outpaced the man and headed towards the front of the small county jail he’d been held in since early evening.

Ten minutes later, Dean was behind the wheel of his beloved Impala. He hated seeing her in impound. “It’s okay, Baby,” he smoothed his hand over the dash as he spoke. “We’re going home now.” He started the car up, smiling at the low and familiar rumble, then reached over and flipped the radio on, cranking up the volume as he did. As Dean pulled out of the cage, he ignored the guard who gave him a wave.

“Food first, then home and a shower.” He was sore from being thrown around on the latest job – it had been one bitch of a ghoul – but other than that, he had gotten away relatively unscathed. All in all, it had been a good hunt up until a few hours ago when he’d walked right out into the hands of the local sheriff, carrying a machete, clothes covered in blood, and no real good explanation for any of it.

Maybe tomorrow he’d take the five and a half hour trip out to Sioux Falls to visit Bobby. He hadn’t been out that way in a while. He had no hunts lined up either. Hell, he would even pick up a case of beer on the way and drop it off as a ‘thank you’ for getting his ass out of lock-up…again.

~ * ~

Forty-five minutes later, Dean pulled into the driveway of his cabin. It was out in the middle of nowhere just the way he liked it. Nosy neighbors were something he could do without and the crystal-clear lake which was less than a quarter mile away at the rear of his property was great for nighttime swims. The place was paid for by a life insurance policy which his father had kept unbeknownst to him. (Bobby, the closest thing his father had to a friend, was the only one besides John to know about it.) When the elder Winchester had died a couple of years ago, taken down by that bastard of a demon that Dean had finally just killed less than ten months ago, the entire fund had gone to Dean. It had been a bittersweet moment when he had cashed that check.

After John Winchester’s untimely death, Dean had narrowed his hunting down to that evil, yellow-eyed son of a bitch. After that particular job was done, the young hunter decided to put down roots somewhere…and Hillman, Minnesota it was. So far, he’d had no regrets. It was nice to have a place to call ‘home’ after so long. And he still smiled every time he drove up the long, private driveway.

He grabbed his blue utility jacket up off the seat and got out of the car, the door giving a loud, protesting groan as he opened it. The first thing he did was stretch the kinks out of his back from the ride and suck in a deep breath of fresh forest air. The sun had set not too long ago and now the full moon was sending long shadows skittering across his yard. He stepped lightly, though, knowing the property was as secure as it could be.

When he’d first purchased the land, he and Bobby had gone around the perimeter of the lot and carved sigils and wardings into the surrounding trees; they’d keep most of the baddies at bay and off his property. Anything that might get past them would then have to get through several other hidden supernatural booby traps. Dean had been fairly impressed by the older hunter’s ingenuity. He’d never felt safer.

He went around to the back of the car and popped the trunk lid. Inside he shuffled some things around and then lifted two large duffels out. He’d only been gone for just over a week and a half, but it felt like a month. All he wanted to do was take a hot shower and kick back to watch some television with a beer and some chips.

~ * ~

As Dean opened the front door and stepped into the house, he nearly swooned at a ripe stench permeating the air. “What the hell is that? God…” He’d been privy to some pretty nasty smells in his life, including rotting corpses, but this just wasn’t right, whatever it was.

He dropped his bags to the floor, flicked the lights on, and began opening the windows to air the place out. When he got to the kitchen, he saw the source of the smell. Fish carcasses…several of them scattered about the floor just inside the back door. “Goddamn, mother-” A dark shadow darted into the kitchen from the back hall and he cut himself off as he went for his gun. When he got _it_ in his sights, he caught the tail end of the creature as it ran out through the doggie door, its gray and black-ringed tail the last bit of it to disappear from sight. (Speaking of doggie doors, he’d been meaning to replace the thing with a solid panel since he’d moved in, but hadn’t had the time to do yet with all the other things he’d been fixing up, namely the roof.)

He squatted down and threw the latch to keep the flap down, making sure it was firmly in place as he did. “Freakin’ raccoons,” he muttered. “If you’re gonna use the kitchen, at least throw your shit out.” As Dean stood up, he looked around the floor at his feet and shook his head. He could only wonder what other surprises he was going to find in the house.

Dean spun when he heard a shrill chatter from behind him. Coming out from behind the couch in the living room was a miniature version of the raccoon he’d just watched exit his home…and then another pranced up behind it, tackling it in a playful manner. “Are you kidding me?” He rolled his eyes and sighed. _Mother freakin’ Nature._ And then he smiled and began to laugh as the two siblings turned and sat on the floor, staring at him with their wide, beady little eyes. “Come on, out you go.” He opened the door and held it as the two animals scurried off to find their mother. “Don’t come back unless I invite you next time,” he yelled into the darkness.

He closed the door and leaned against it with a groan. “So much for watchin’ a movie.”

~ * ~

It looked like the wildlife had kept their dinner confined to the kitchen just inside the door. Dean checked the rooms and found nothing else amiss. He quickly picked up the fish remains and tossed them into a trash bag. He put it out on the back stoop while he spent five minutes mopping up the floor. (He even went as far as spraying some Lysol around the place to help remove the smell. It was mostly gone by the time he was finished, thank god.)

After he was done and got the house back into some semblance of its former state, Dean went out back to put the bag in the locked trash bin on the side of the house. (He wasn’t going to pick the nasty crap up a second time.) As he came back around the corner, he heard what sounded too much like a soft moan and frowned.

“Now what’s going on?” And then he noticed something he’d somehow missed on his trip out with the garbage: a body lying several feet away from his back door in the opposite direction he’d just come from. _What the hell?_ He looked around the yard, eying the trees for any possible threats; he saw no one, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something hiding out there. At least he still had his Colt hidden at the small of his back. If he needed to, he’d use it.

He knelt down next to the still form and checked for a pulse. It was there, slow and steady. Dean’s eyes fell to the crossbow bolt sticking out of the man’s left shoulder and he grimaced. _That has to hurt_ , he thought to himself as he tilted his head and swept a length of unruly, brown hair from the man’s face. “Dude, it looks like you’ve had a worse day than me…and that’s sayin’ something.” The man didn’t stir from his touch nor his words.

Dean couldn’t see much of the guy due to the shadows, but he could tell that he was young, probably younger than himself by a few years. Dean figured this was probably some college student who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Every now and then he’d hear stories about them coming out to one of the nearby lakes with their buddies and getting lost. Usually they were a little on the intoxicated side of things when they’d initially wander off into the woods to take a leak, only to find themselves turned around and unable to find their way back to their pals.

Part of Dean wanted to call for an ambulance. Obviously this was some hunting accident gone wrong, not his kind of hunting either. Someone had mistaken this poor guy for a deer – or more likely a bear from the size of him – and had let loose a shot before figuring it out. But that would mean cops, and Dean had had enough of them today. If it was just the shoulder wound, Dean could clean him up and set him on his way come morning.

“Dammit,” Dean said with a hint of resignation. “I better not hurt myself getting you in the house.” He grunted as he lifted the young man from the ground and shuffled his way up the steps and inside. The couch wasn’t anywhere near big enough to take care of things and Dean sighed. “Guess I’ll be sleeping out here tonight.” He made his way down the hall to the bedroom; it was the only place he could take care of this little problem.

After he got the kid laid out on the bed, Dean retrieved the first aid kit from under the sink in the bathroom. He turned on the overhead light as he came back into the room, highlighting the minimalistic, military sparseness of the bedroom, and sat down on the bed next to the stranger. – His mind wandered to a few of the life threatening wounds he’d had to close up on his father over the years. This was nothing like that, but he knew he hadn’t seen the last of the former, not as a hunter. – The first thing he did was run a pair of scissors up the back of the kid’s t-shirt. A broad expanse of tanned muscles came into view and Dean licked his lips. “Wow.”

He cleared his throat as he continued to cut around the crossbow bolt and, feeling his pants tightening, shifted slightly. “Not now, Dean.” He pushed his unbidden thoughts aside and continued to work. If he was lucky, he’d be able to get the bolt out of the guy’s shoulder before he woke up. A few neat stitches and then things would be golden.

But when was Dean ever lucky?

The bolt had struck bone. It had taken some effort, but when it finally came loose, it tore through skin causing the young man to scream out and start flailing under Dean’s hand. He fought Dean and tried to roll over, but the hunter held him down as he pressed a towel to the wound to keep it from bleeding out too badly.

~ * ~

Sam woke up to a flare of pain in his shoulder. The scream he heard had to have come from his own mouth and his whole body was trembling. As he struggled to get away, he felt a firm hand holding him down on the what, bed? How’d he get here?

“Stop fighting me, man. I’m just trying to help you out, but you gotta lie still,” he heard someone demanding of him.

All Sam could do was give in. He relaxed as much as he could and let out a quiet sob into the pillow below his head, hoping it was muffled enough that the man couldn’t hear it.

“That sucker got you real good. I’m gonna have to get at least three or four stitches in there.”

 _Oh, god._ He wasn’t sure if he could take more pain. Another sob and a nod. He prayed he would fall back into the warm and secure arms of unconsciousness for just a little while longer.

~ * ~

 _Fuck, this is gonna suck,_ Dean thought as he stared down at the young man.

Dean glanced at the bolt he still held in his hand; his brow creased as he looked at it. The end wasn’t smooth-tipped as he had expected it to be. It was barbed. What he held in his hand was something akin to what he and other _hunters_ used when hunting. Normal hunters never used these things. He looked over the shivering body in front of him. _Was this was an innocent mistake or something more?_

~ * ~

It took three stitches. Dean was thankful for that because the man remained conscious and shaking through it all, every in-and-out of the needle through flesh. He had to give credit where it was due though. The young man had remained still and kept his cries stifled as he did what he needed to do.

With a final strip of tape, Dean taped down the gauze. After he was done, he smoothed a calloused hand over the guy’s good shoulder before standing up. “Well, you’re all set. I’m just gonna get this stuff put away and clean up a little. Take it easy for a while. I’ll be back with a glass of water and something for the pain in a minute.” No response. “Well, I’ll just leave something out just in case you decide you want it then.” And then he turned and left the room.

~ * ~

Sam lay there on the bed in agony; his shoulder was on fire. Never had he felt pain like this before. This man, whoever he was, had removed the god-awful iron-tipped bolt from his shoulder and had tried to fix him, but, _fuck_ , he hurt. He didn’t even have enough energy to thank him for helping him.

He heard the man return a few minutes later. He had left something on the table next to the bed and then moved to the foot of the bed to pry Sam’s shoes from his feet before leaving again, saying something about making him more comfortable. When Sam was alone, he attempted to roll over and sit up. It didn’t work out so well. There was still too much poison in his system. Instead, he let his eyes close and he drifted off.

~ * ~

Dean was finally able to take a shower. Today had to be one of the longest days he’d had in a while. He let the hot water run down over his head and stream down his sore and tired body and groaned in appreciation.

As he washed, he thought about the barbed end of the crossbow bolt and decided to call Bobby when he was done. They couldn’t have hunters running around shooting innocent kids, especially in his own backyard. This was Dean’s ‘safe’ place. He wanted to keep his name clean in this town. Anywhere else? Who cared? But this was his home now.

When he was done, he checked in on his unexpected guest. The kid was sprawled out across the bed, one foot hanging off the edge, his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow. From the steady rise and fall of his shoulders, Dean knew he was asleep again. The pain meds and glass of water were yet untouched. A part of Dean would have liked to have seen what the young man actually looked like in the light, but he was still facing the other direction and Dean didn’t want to bother him. There was always tomorrow.

He backed out of the room and switched the light off, leaving the door cracked open as he left. A beer was still calling his name so he swung by the fridge on the way out to the front porch where he sat down and called Bobby.

“Well, how’s freedom treating you?” Bobby’s gruff voice answered the phone.

“Thanks, Bobby. I owe you.”

“Yeah, for this time and the last, what, five times in the last year alone? You gotta tighten up your act there. One of these times, I’m not gonna be able to help you.”

“I know. This solo gig sucks.”

“Look, son, I know you miss your dad – we all do – but you’re better than this. You should take a vacation, rest up some. You got that there house and you’ve barely stayed there for more than a month all total.”

Dean was quiet at the mention of his father. Really, he’d been running non-stop since the man had died. Truthfully, he was scared that if he stopped to smell the roses, reality might actually catch up to him and he’d realize how alone he really was.

“Dean?”

“I’m here. I’ll give it some thought.” He knew the words didn’t sound honest, but he knew he’d have to really sit back and accept the way things were now. It was just going to be…hard.

“You better, even if I have to force it on you. I’m gonna hold off on sending any jobs your way until you do. If the cops are catchin’ you, that means somethin’ else might catch your ass one of these days, too. And I’m not gonna be givin’ them any help in that department.”

Dean leaned his head back against the back of the Adirondack chair he was sitting in and closed his eyes. _Was he that off his game? Shit._ “Alright. I promise to take a vacation.”

“Good. Now, I’m off to bed unless there’s somethin’ else you got on your mind.”

“Actually, there is something.”

“Well, spill it. An old man needs his sleep. And sooner rather than later.”

“Do you know of any hunters up in my area? Any jobs going on up here?”

“Dean, I just told you-”

“No, that’s not what I mean. It’s just… I’ve got some unexpected company. Some college kid got himself shot by a crossbow. I found him unconscious outside my back door.”

“Huntin’ accident?”

“No.” Dean knew the man meant a _normal_ hunting accident. “The bolt was barbed, like the kind _we_ use.” A bat flew across the yard and Dean watched its zigzagging trek from one end of the clearing to the other. A second later, another swooped by.

“Is that so? You sure your ‘company’ is some school brat and not something more?”

Dean had briefly considered the idea, but had brushed it off. Everything about the guy inside seemed perfectly human. “Pretty sure.”

“Pretty sure? Dean, you idjit. Pretty sure don’t cut it in our line of work. You gotta be _damn_ sure. Hunters don’t go shootin’ up random people in their spare time.”

Dean got up and began pacing the length of the porch. Bobby was right. “He got past the wardings-”

“You know those only work for spirits and demons, Dean. Most corporeal shit can still get past them. – Where is he now?”

“Um…” Dean chewed his bottom lip, knowing he was about to get scolded.

“He’s in your house, ain’t he?” The elder hunter sighed with exasperation. “Dean…”

“Look, I didn’t know details until I got the bolt out of him and saw it. He’s been out like a light ever since. I’ll run some tests on him in the morning. If he’s something, then I’ll take care of it…otherwise, I’ll just send him on his way.”

“Alright. You just watch yourself tonight.”

“I will, Bobby.” As Dean spoke, he thought about the fact that his gun was sitting on the counter in the kitchen and he currently had no weapons on him. He glanced up and saw the hilt of a hidden buck knife up in the rafters of the porch.

“Call me tomorrow when you find out what you got there.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

They said their goodbyes and Dean stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He leaned up against the railing on his forearms and looked at the Impala. The moon reflected off her hood and Dean once more gave the idea of building a garage for her some thought. Maybe he could start it during his ‘vacation’. And then he turned to go back into the house. He hesitated at the threshold and then shook his head. “Nah, ‘pretty sure’ works for me.” Dean went inside and locked the door behind him. _At least I hope so._


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Awareness seeped into Sam slowly. He swallowed back a groan as he blinked open his eyes; a thin beam of light peeked in through the curtains and warmed the skin on his cheek. Morning. He shifted and rolled onto his back, wincing slightly at the ghost of pain still residing in his shoulder. Whatever poison those hunters had used, it certainly had dug its claws into him. Normally, he would have been fully healed long ago; that certainly wasn’t the case at the moment.

He pulled himself upright into a sitting position, combed his hair out of his face with his fingers, and glanced down at the nightstand. The digital clock told him it was just before 5:00 a.m. His eyes fell to the tumbler of water sitting next to three white pills. He licked his dry lips; his mouth was parched, but he couldn’t risk it. If any of it spilled onto his skin…

The house was silent around him. He wondered where the man who helped him last night was. _Probably still sleeping_. He slid over to the edge of the bed, feeling the soft down comforter under his hands as he moved, and dropped his feet to the polished wooden floor. Aside from the ache in his shoulder, he seemed to be okay after the night’s rest. Slowly, Sam stood up from the bed, testing his balance before attempting anything more complicated than just standing there. So far, so good.

His sneakers had been placed near the foot of the bed and Sam went over to slip them on. He had to get out of here before things got even more fucked up than they already were. First and foremost on his mind was, would he still be able to get home?

By all means, his window of opportunity should have drawn to a close at midnight, that truly magical hour when his world and the human world collided with one another. He’d heard rumors of others missing the doorway; it was never a good thing. It was too risky with all the damn hunters floating around in this place; he’d seen that firsthand. The ones from last night were probably still lurking nearby. He wasn’t too manly to admit it; he was more than a little frightened at the prospect of being stuck here until the next window presented itself (a whole month from now). The only other way back being _if_ someone was actually sent to retrieve him before then. He could picture his father. The man, being who he was, would probably draw a lesson out of this somehow.

He looked back at the bed and returned to it to straighten out the rumpled blankets, smoothing down the edges. (The mundane task helped calm him some.) When he was satisfied, he turned to leave, but a thought occurred to him. In the fog of his memories from last night, Sam knew he hadn’t thanked the man for saving him. He’d been too weak. Call him weird, but he felt he needed to let the man know that he didn’t take what he’d done for granted.

The drawer to the nightstand caught his eye and he reached down to open it. Maybe there was something in there he could use. He smiled when his saw some of the man’s personal things. Amongst them were a package of condoms, lube, a blue dildo (the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk), a gun tucked in the back (Sam arched his brow, but he didn’t touch it), a journal (he briefly ran his fingers over the smooth leather cover wondering what he’d find out about the man if he looked inside) and – _ah-ha_ – a pen and a pad of paper. Quickly, he jotted down a thank you note and left it on the pillow. It would have to do.

After taking care of the note, Sam went to the closet and opened the door. He needed a shirt. The wardrobe he found inside didn’t vary much, mostly what he saw were muted earth-toned t-shirts and an assortment of flannels, but hanging on the rack to one side were a handful of finely pressed suits. “Huh.” He let his fingers smooth over the soft, dark material. The guy must work in a nice office somewhere if he was wearing these. And then he forced his fingers away and quickly snagged a blue t-shirt from a hanger. He was sure it wouldn’t be missed as he tugged it over his head. It was a little snug, but it would have to do.

Again he combed his fingers through his hair; this time it was more nerves than anything. He needed to go. (Part of him knew he was stalling because he was afraid of what he was going to find when he got to the lake.) There wasn’t time for explanations, not that he’d have a good one. He would have to lie if he was stopped. _Would he be able to make it out without being seen?_ Sam slipped silently from the room and made his way through the interior of the house. He had to pass the living room on the way to the door and caught sight of the man to whom he most likely owed his life and Sam froze in his tracks, his eyes glued to the sight.

The man was spread out over the too-small couch, his right foot up on the arm rest, his left leg bent at the knee, socked foot on the floor; he didn’t look like he was too comfortable. Sam’s roaming gaze locked on the guy’s face, the firm jawline which showed a hint of five o’clock shadow, the plush lips which were pursed with quiet breaths moving in and out between them, the long, dark lashes kissing freckled skin. _Shit. Had he known he’d been rescued by someone who looked like that…_

He didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly Sam was right there in the man’s space, the tips of his long fingers reaching out to brush against those sinful lips. The touch caused the man to stir some, but it wasn’t enough to wake him. Sam wondered what color eyes were hidden beneath his closed lids. Brown…blue…green? He had a feeling that no matter what they were, they’d be gorgeous.

A mischievous smile spread on his face, causing deep dimples to appear. He would never see this man again; a quick taste wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sam looked over to the door. He knew he could make it out and be gone before the guy even knew what hit him.

Sam leaned down into the crook of the sleeping man’s neck and inhaled, learning the unique smell of his savior. The scent of fresh soap and bitter coffee were most prominent, but there was also a hint of leather and something else he couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, it fascinated Sam. He moved over and let his tongue trail lightly at the seam of the man’s lips, eliciting a quiet moan from the other’s throat. A shiver coursed through Sam’s body. _G_ _od, they were so soft and pliant._ An unexpected sense of _want_ twisted and writhed within his core. And then he became more brazen and took the man’s plump, lower lip between his teeth and teased at it.

A soft groan escaped from Sam’s throat and he closed his eyes, lost in the man’s taste. When he opened them again, he knew he’d gone too far because staring widely up at him were the greenest eyes he’d ever seen.

He was stunned for a moment before, “Oh, shit!” Sam stumbled backwards, nearly falling back on his ass, breath coming in short pants. He’d let himself get carried away. _Fuck!_

Sam whirled and ran to the door, grappling clumsily at the deadbolt to get it open, and then he took off out into the cool morning, making a beeline straight for the lake which he knew wasn’t too far away in the distance.

~ * ~

Dean felt pressure on his lips and moaned. He was being pulled from a dream he didn’t want to let go of. The stranger from last night had invaded his mind and his head was filled with soft touches and kisses shared between the hunter and the faceless young man who was, even now, sleeping in Dean’s own bed. The last thing Dean expected when he woke up was to find his dream had become reality.

He barely caught a glimpse of the stranger’s multi-colored eyes before he was out the door and running, the door slowly rebounding shut behind his hasty exit.

“Wait!” Dean yelled out as he launched up from the couch, shoeless feet padding across the floor, and ran out the front door after the young man. The kid was quick. Dean circled the house, but saw no one. “Hey! Come on, now. You didn’t have to run,” he called out, but to no avail. Nothing but the chatter of morning birdsong and the fluttering of leaves in the trees surrounding him responded in the otherwise still and quiet morning. “Shit,” he mumbled as he turned back to go in the house, his socks now wet from the morning dew.

Maybe after the kid calmed down, he would come back.

~ * ~

An hour had gone by…and then another…and the young man hadn’t returned. Dean had finished up his eggs and toast more than a half hour ago and his empty plate now sat in front of him as he appeared to be browsing the morning news on the internet at the breakfast table. Nothing special was going on out in the world today, not that he would have noticed anything anyway what with the way his mind was overly absorbed in the events of the last nine or so hours.

He thought about the situation long and hard. He didn’t take what Bobby had said lightly; he knew better than that. But he had nothing. It made him feel out of sorts not being in control of things. He rubbed a hand over his face and ran his fingers up through his sleep-mussed hair. Dean knew the older hunter would be waiting for his call that morning and he didn’t know what he was going to tell the man.

Giving up on the computer with a sigh, Dean closed the lid to the laptop and grabbed his plate and coffee mug as he stood up from the table. He gave them a quick washing in the sink, then went down the hall to get dressed. As he stepped into the room, he noticed right away that the bed had been made. His eyes landed on a sheet of paper resting on the pillow and he strode across the room to pick it up. The heat of embarrassment rushed up his cheeks when he recognized the paper and what the kid had to have seen when he shuffled through his drawer to get to it. And then Dean recalled the handgun in the nightstand and ripped it open…only to see that it was still there. He let out a breath of relief and then let himself actually read what was written.

             _Thank you,_

_Sam_

That’s it. Three simple words. Nothing else.

Well, at least Dean knew his name now. “Sam.” The word felt comfortable as it rolled off his tongue. “Well, _Sam_ , I wish you didn’t go runnin’ off like a bat outta Hell.” He set the paper back down on the bed as he went to get dressed.

Several minutes later, Dean grabbed the piece of paper up from the bed and headed back out to the kitchen. It was the start of his impromptu vacation and he was going to have to find something to do after he called Bobby.

~ * ~

“Jesus, Dean. Don’t you ever sleep?” Bobby grumbled as he answered the phone.

“Don’t give me that crap, Bobby. I know you get up at the asscrack of dawn.” Dean chuckled as he sipped at his third cup of coffee that morning. “It’s almost eight o’clock. What’d you do, stay out partying late last night or something?”

“I’m not as spry as I used to be. What can I say? – So you find out anything on that kid you got shackin’ up at your place?”

“Um, about that-”

“Aw, hell. I knew this was gonna be bad.”

“Shit, and you said I’m ornery in the morning. You had your coffee yet?”

“On my second cup. Still need ‘bout three more though if I’m gonna have to listen to you,” the elder man said with a hint of humor.

“Screw you.” Dean laughed.

“So how _is_ your guest? Friend or foe?” The older hunter turned the subject back to what he knew Dean had originally called about.

“Gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

“Like in, he left. I, uh, woke up to his lips attached to mine and then…I don’t know, he ran. He kinda freaked out, I guess. Took off into the woods.”

Bobby was quiet as he tried to decide what to hit on first, the kiss or the fact that the kid ran like he did. “Well, did you go lookin’ for ‘im?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have any luck. He’s a grown boy. I’m sure he found the road by now.”

“You just let ‘im run off. Did you at least get to check ‘im? You know…”

“No. But I’m pretty-”

“If you’re gonna say ‘pretty sure’, you best hang up right now.”

Dean growled. “Fine. No, I didn’t check him. Didn’t get a damn chance. And yes, I may have just let _something_ run off. I woke up to a bit of a shocker. It sorta knocked me off my game a little, okay?”

“And why exactly did he have his tongue down your throat, Dean?”

Dean nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. “His damn tongue wasn’t down my throat! It wasn’t like that.” Although he wouldn’t have exactly been opposed to it after he saw what the guy looked like. “He was just… Fuck, Bobby, I’m not going into detail. I don’t know why he did it. Maybe it was his way of saying ‘thanks for saving my ass’.”

~ * ~

Sam ran until he got to the edge of the lake; it wasn’t too far from the man’s house. He hated running, leaving like that, but he couldn’t be sure how the guy would react. After all, Sam did take advantage of him while he was still asleep. And who knew if the guy batted for the home team or not? More than likely, he didn’t. Also, the man was human; Sam wasn’t.

He looked out over the calm, rippling waters of the lake. It was a clear morning and the trees and sky reflected in startling detail off the surface, creating a scene worthy of a painting. Sam stripped out of his clothes, worrying at his bottom lip as he did. _Was his home waiting for him out there?_ He could only hope as he folded his clothes and set them aside in a neat pile on a fallen tree.

Walking down to the water’s edge, Sam cast a forlorn look over his shoulder in the direction of the cabin. He still felt a tug inside towards the man he was leaving behind. But he knew in the greater scheme of things, the man was no one to him, would never be; it was impossible. Those of his kind came here only to learn and observe, never to form any sort of relationships, be it friendly or otherwise. It was forbidden.

As his toes touched the water, Sam felt his body begin to shift. Home was calling to him and he felt its pull. He smiled before running into the water, and with a great leap, he dove down into its depths disappearing from sight.

~ * ~

Dean quickly grew bored…and it was only the first day. He was a man of action, not a couch potato. His earlier thoughts of building a garage for Baby had lost their appeal. Instead, his mind wandered back to the blue, gold, and green-hued eyes he had awoken to that morning. _Where had the kid run off to? Would he be okay?_ Dean’s property was miles from anywhere, his road being the only way in or out of the nearest town.

“Shit,” Dean muttered as he turned off the television and tossed the remote aside. He took a deep breath and got up from the couch to head into the kitchen, grabbing his jacket from the back of one of the chairs as he passed by it. The hunter picked up his Colt from the counter and checked to make sure that it was fully loaded and that the safety was on before he tucked it into his jeans.

_I think I’m losing my mind._

~ * ~

Twenty minutes later, Dean pulled the Impala up in front of the local gas station/garage. He let his eyes roam over the nearby sidewalks looking for the familiar lanky form of the young man as he got out of the car and headed inside, but he saw no one who even came close to the guy’s stature.

“Well, good morning, Dean,” an older man called out from behind the counter as he folded a newspaper and stood up in greeting. “Been some time since we’ve seen you. Fillin’ her up, son? Or needin’ some work?”

“Nah, Al.” The hunter’s gaze was still focused outside through the plate-glass window as he answered, but he finally let himself turn his attention to the man. “Was lookin’ for someone. Maybe a little taller than me, early twenties. Shaggy mop of brown hair on his head. He would’ve come down my road on foot most likely.” Dean knew it would be a miracle for the kid to have come this far in the time he’d been gone.

Unsurprisingly, Al shook his head ‘no’. “Sorry. Just a couple of the regulars. No one out of the ordinary. – If I see ‘im, you want me to call you?”

Dean liked the old guy; he reminded him a lot of Bobby in more than a few ways. He was close to six feet, even in his early sixties, well-built, too. His thinning brown hair was turning grayer by the day; his steel-blue eyes held an intelligence which Dean held a deep respect for. The man also had an attitude you didn’t want to screw around with. But as long as you stayed honest with him, he could be trusted with your life. Dean had met him early on after moving to Hillman and had even worked for him on and off again when he’d needed cash and Al had needed the help; it was a mutually beneficial relationship. And if Baby needed work done, Al let him use one of the bays and whatever tools and equipment he needed.

He swept a hand up and scratched at the nape of his neck. Dean felt a little dumb for letting himself be affected the way he had been. For some reason, he just _needed_ to see Sam again. “Yeah, would you? But if you do see him, don’t tell him I’m looking for him. Just call me.”

Al tilted his head suspiciously, cheek twitching, and he frowned. “Is he trouble?”

Dean’s eyes snapped over to the man from where they had fallen to the window again. “What? No. No, nothing like that. I got in last night and found him passed out on my lawn. Probably one of those partiers up at the big lake, you know. He took off this morning before I could bring him into town. Just feel like it’s my responsibility to make sure he’s okay.” It was mostly true. Dean couldn’t let Al know the real truth if there was something more to the whole thing.

“Okay, just checking. I know you can take care of yourself, but we get some strange ones out in these parts sometimes.” Al smiled and then changed the subject. “You gonna be around for a while? I got an old GTO that just came in.” He gave a nod towards the door to the garage. “Needs some minor body work and a general tune-up. I know you like your classics. I’d be willin’ to pay you your normal fee.”

That was enough to ground Dean for a moment and he grinned, eyes bright with excitement. “Really?” He was already halfway to the door to the garage, licking his lips. The car he saw through the door’s window was in great shape except for a ding in the driver’s side door.

“It’s my nephew’s car. His eight year old son rode his bike into the side of it, causing that there dent. – Kids, you gotta love ‘em.” Al laughed. “So it’s yours if you want the work.”

 _Damn._ “I’d really love to, but…” Dean wanted the job; he could also use the cash. “When’s she gotta be back?”

“No rush. The family just left for a month-long European vacation. There’s plenty of time if you can’t get right on it.”

Dean gave it some thought. “Yeah, okay.” He looked between the sweet ride and his friend who had stepped up behind him. “I’ll do it.” It would keep him occupied while taking the requisite downtime Bobby insisted on. “Just give me a day or two to get settled back into things at the house and then I’ll get down here mid-week.”

“You got yourself a deal.” Al gave Dean a fatherly pat on the shoulder. Just then a customer pushed through the door, breaking off their conversation. “So, I’ll give you a call if I see your boy,” he said as he headed back over to the register.

“Thanks, Al.” With a final glance at the GTO, Dean stepped back out into the morning sun, spirits lifted slightly.

~ * ~

It was nearing mid-afternoon when Sam emerged from the water, crestfallen. He pulled himself up onto the shore to let his body dry off and gave a depressed flap of the long, muscular fish-like tail that tapered down his body, starting at his waist. It fell heavily to the ground and Sam dropped down onto his back to stare up at the drifting clouds.

“Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

It was true; the doorway to his world was gone, lost to him for another cycle of the moon. He had no means with which to support himself, and, god, what if he got found out? Just lying out here drying was a risk, even if it was a necessary one; he couldn’t do much in this world in his piscine form. Tonight he’d have to find somewhere to lie low, to stay safe. Tomorrow Sam would work on piecing a life together that he’d have to live out for the next twenty-eight days.

He was tired from exerting himself all morning. Sam had been desperate and circled the large lake multiple times, searching for a way home. All he came up with for his effort was sheer exhaustion. As he lay there waiting for his body to shift back into its bipedal form, the blanket of heat from the late summer sun lulled him to sleep.

~ * ~

Dean meandered down the lengthy dirt path behind his house, blue cooler in hand. Inside it was a cold six-pack which he intended on working his way through when he reached his spot at the lake. (Well, minus one that was currently being enjoyed as he walked.) The place was like an old friend who could listen to his contemplations and worries without bias, especially after the goings on of the past day, the only highlight of which had been the obvious: Sam’s soft lips latched onto his. He licked his lips at the memory of it, wishing he’d been able to be an active participant in the kiss.

After talking to Al at the shop this morning, he’d stopped at the hardware store and picked up a panel to replace the nuisance of a doggie door with. Now that that was finally taken care of, he hoped he wouldn’t have any more run-ins with the local wildlife in his house. Raccoons were cute and all, but he really didn’t want to share his bed with them. When he had finished up with that, he gave Baby a good washing and cleaned out the interior of the car. The stale stench of ghoul guts and fast food wrappers wasn’t becoming of her.

The leaves in the trees overhead rustled as he walked; they were just starting to show a hint of autumn in them. The sun was still high enough in the sky where he wouldn’t have to rush to get back; he had a few hours to kill until then. But even so, he knew his way back in the dark. Dean had walked this path countless times; every time he’d been home he’d taken it. He was, by far, not a nature fanatic, but it felt nice to escape from the doldrums of his everyday life. Just kicking back with a cold one and enjoying the serenity of the water lapping at the shore afforded him a sanity no hunt ever could.

Two more lazy bends in the trail away, Dean saw the twinkle of water break through the trees. Just the sight of it caused the tension in his body to slip off his shoulders and he felt himself smiling. He glanced up at the heavens and gave a silent ‘thanks’ to his father, for without the man, he wouldn’t have any of this.

When he finally reached the clearing, the cooler fell from Dean’s fingers where it spilled its contents out onto the ground; his jaw fell in shock. There, out on the grassy expanse of shoreline, was the object of this morning’s search. Sam. And, _goddammit_ , he was freaking naked and, from the looks of things, he was…sleeping?

Dean palmed his suddenly hard cock through the denim of his jeans and swallowed.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Beer forgotten, Dean approached the young man cautiously, hoping not to spook him if he really was awake and just resting rather than actually sleeping. He took in the scene around Sam as he neared, the pile of clothes folded neatly on the tree trunk, the odd trail leading up from the water to where Sam lay in the almost knee-high grass which was moving calmly in the gentle wind coming from across the lake. It looked as if he had dragged himself out of the water. – The thought of Sam being injured again had Dean immediately dropping his eyes down to the man’s chest to make sure he was breathing; he was.

Sam’s hair was fanned out under his head. Rich tones of chestnut, deep auburn, and even some dark blond shone brightly from the sun touching down on him; his long bangs fluttered over his forehead in the soft breeze. Dean’s gaze moved down…to the almond-shaped eyes; dark lashes feathered over the tops of his cheeks; the sharp, slightly upturned nose; the strong jawline; and those utterly kissable lips…

He took his time taking in the lovely sight at his feet now that he knew for a fact the younger man was definitely sleeping. Sam’s chest was a golden plane of muscle (just from what Dean had seen of his back, he should have known it would be); his abs were well-defined and Dean let his mind wander to thoughts of licking a wet line from the long curve of the man’s neck to… _Oh, that happy trail_. Speaking of, his eyes followed the path of the fine dusting of hair and his brow lifted at Sam’s thick and heavy cock nestled in the wiry curls of his pubic hair. Even in its current state, it was huge. – A shiver worked its way up Dean’s spine at just the thought of touching it, never mind what it would be like to feel it- _Shit. Yeah, Dean. That’s not gonna happen._ – He forced his eyes away and they drifted down the length of tight, lean thighs, muscled calves…all the way down to Sam’s toes.

He slowly knelt beside the young man, knees pressing into the warm, loose soil beneath him. Sure, Dean was bisexual and happy about it, but he’d never been affected by anyone like this. He was drawn to him and he _wanted_. And, fuck, if that didn’t sound anything but shallow. Then again, he’d had his share of one-night stands. (The only thing that had counted on those nights _was_ looks.) But this was different. If anyone asked Dean how, he wouldn’t be able to explain.

Sam’s breathing changed then; he was starting to wake up. Dean panicked briefly wondering how the kid was going to react when he saw him kneeling there. Really, he was in a pretty vulnerable state right now – _hello, naked here –_ and might get defensive because of it.

A big hand lifted from the ground and scratched across the sunbathed chest and Dean remained motionless as Sam began to stir. Long legs shifted slightly and then his eyes opened.

Dean didn’t move. He just stared, warm green eyes penetrating, but gentle.

Sam didn’t move. He stared back, hazel eyes wide with something resembling what? Fear? That certainly hadn’t been what Dean expected to see.

Dean didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he found himself leaning down – heart pounding furiously in his chest as he did – and pressing his lips to Sam’s. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he’d take his chances. He just had to feel the man’s lips again.

It was a chaste kiss at first. When Sam didn’t fight, Dean licked across the younger man’s soft lips and pried at the seam with his tongue, asking for entrance. Sam took a minute to catch up, but soon he opened under the hunter’s insistence. Dean knew nothing at that moment except for the heat of Sam’s mouth as he licked into it, tracing the ridges of his teeth, the palate of his mouth. His tongue tangled with Sam’s as he threaded the fingers of one hand through the man’s hair while the other worked its way down to grip the jut of Sam’s hip bone, sun-warmed skin burning into the flesh of his palm.

As they kissed, Dean found himself letting Sam take control, allowing the younger man’s confidence to build up; he groaned as Sam increased the intensity of their kiss, sucking Dean’s tongue into his mouth, learning him. Suddenly, he was being rolled onto the warm earth below him with Sam’s heavy weight bearing down on him. – This was going so much further than Dean had ever imagined, but shit, he wasn’t going to stop now. – Dean gasped into the kiss when he felt the younger man’s hard cock nudge against his own growing length as Sam pressed his hips down into him. They rocked into each other as the kiss lingered. Finally, Dean reluctantly pulled away, needing to catch his breath. Sam shifted when their lips came apart, nuzzling into the older man’s neck, licking and nipping at the sensitive flesh, his stubbled jaw rasping against Dean’s already over-sensitized skin.

“Fuck. Feels good, Sam,” Dean managed between panting breaths, head tilted back to give Sam more room. He could feel teeth biting down on his neck, marking him, before the wet heat of the man’s tongue soothed away the sting and he moaned, hands coming up to grip Sam’s sides; his fingers drifted down, feeling every bump and indentation of the man’s ribs until they finally settled at the narrowing of his waist.

At Sam’s name, the man pulled away, hands pressed into the grass to either side of Dean’s head, and he stared down at him, eyes sharp. Dean looked up at him, worried that something had just gone wrong, that maybe Sam decided that this shouldn’t be happening. He wet his lips, waiting for the fallout.

“I don’t know your name,” Sam said, his voice husky, but soft at the same time.

 _That’s it?_ Dean smirked. “Dean. S’Dean.”

“Dean.” The younger man paused, dark eyes blinking slowly. “Yeah, I can see that.” Sam smiled and Dean found himself smiling back.

Sam sat up and tugged at the hem of Dean’s shirt then. The hunter got the point quickly and dragged it up and over his head. – They needed to be on even ground…and Dean was way behind. – He tried to keep his eyes off Sam’s swollen shaft, knowing that if he let himself stare too long, it might get awkward. _But, Christ, he was so…_ Dean groaned with the internal thought. He jumped when he felt Sam’s fingers tuck under his waistband, the tips of them just barely brushing past the head of his dick. Their eyes connected and Dean could see the question being asked. He couldn’t suppress the shiver of anticipation. Call him easy, but Dean wasn’t about to turn this down. He nodded, giving silent permission.

~ * ~

Sam thought he’d been dreaming when he woke up from his nap. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep; it just sort of happened. He had been stressed and tired, his predicament troubling.

Somehow in his sleep he must have sensed someone there. When he had opened his eyes and saw the man from the cabin looming over him, his first instinct was to flee. His kind were taught to be leery of humans; they could be unpredictable. But then Sam was caught off guard when the man had dipped his head down and tentatively placed a kiss to his lips.

That sense of _want_ from earlier surged through Sam almost immediately thereafter; it led the way from there, a wild beast of its own accord. He smiled to himself when he felt the subtle shift in their kiss, the man allowing him to have more control as their tongues dueled with each other. It was comforting to Sam in its own way, knowing that this person, this complete stranger, would give him that kind of trust.

And then Sam rolled them. His need took over and he thrust his hips down, groaning as he sought out friction against the rough, denim-clad thigh. He laved, nipped, and sucked at the man’s neck and throat while rocking down into him. When he heard his name moaned out in pleasure, it caused Sam stop what he was doing.

Name. He needed a name before this went any further.

Sam shifted slightly so he could look down into the man’s vivid, green eyes. They were dark and lust-blown. “I don’t know your name,” he said quietly.

“Dean. S’Dean,” was the gravelly response.

It was a good name; it suited the man below him. “Dean,” he tried it out. “Yeah, I can see that.”

He sat up then, straddling Dean. It should have bothered him that he was naked and Dean wasn’t, but it didn’t; it felt…right somehow. But he needed to touch skin. Sam lifted the edge of the man’s shirt and the corner of his mouth twitched when he caught Dean’s eyes lingering on his hard cock as it bobbed, erect and ready, against his abdomen. The man caught up with Sam’s motion after a moment and pulled his shirt off, revealing a bronzed and sculpted chest, a lean and hard stomach. Pale scars (both old and new) crisscrossed Dean’s torso making Sam briefly wonder what their silent stories were, but maybe that was a tale to be told another time…if there was one.

He slipped his fingers down lower, letting them slide under the waistband of Dean’s jeans, his thumb toying innocently with the button as his other fingers slipped across the moist tip of the older man’s cock, causing Dean to shiver. Their eyes met, Sam’s asking, Dean’s okaying.

Sam deftly flicked the button open and pulled the zipper down. Slipping down the man’s legs, he pulled the worn material along with his boxer briefs off, only stopping briefly to tug his shoes and socks off. (Sam was careful not to get the material caught up on Dean’s proud and swollen shaft which now curled up over his stomach.) He looked up at Dean, eying the pink tongue which darted out over the man’s lips as he watched Sam’s movements and Sam grinned lasciviously.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he growled out before leaning down and pressing tender kisses up Dean’s legs as he climbed back up the man, pausing when he reached the dark hair at the base of the man’s cock. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the deep and tantalizingly musky scent that was ‘Dean’.

Dean’s hands reached down and gripped his hair as Sam teased at his balls with his tongue and then let it trail up the length of his shaft, circling through the salty bead of precum before dipping into the small slit. Only for a moment did he take the rigid flesh into his mouth, bobbing up and down, sucking at it and slicking it with his saliva, his actions causing Dean’s body to arch up from the ground. Sam released the man before things could go too far. A thin thread of spit and semen still connected them before he licked it away and finished his journey up the man’s chest, mouthing at each nipple, sucking along each clavicle, and then finally he met Dean’s mouth again, teeth clashing, tongues wrapping around each other.

~ * ~

Their cocks bumped and collided and then began a steady slip/slide against one another; both men moaned into the kiss. Dean ran his hands down along Sam’s arms, feeling the flex of muscle beneath the skin as the younger man held himself up and thrust against him. He let his hands fall to Sam’s back and dropped his head back down to the ground, meeting Sam thrust for thrust. His fingers dug into solid muscle as he felt his climax approaching.

“Shit, Sam. Yeah. S’good. Fuck. Just like that.”

Sam adjusted his position and slipped a hand between them, letting a finger dip down and slide just behind Dean’s balls. It barely pushed into the tight ring of muscle before Dean cried out, pulsing thick ropes of cum over his belly and chest.

“Fuck,” Sam grunted seconds later and came, his seed mixing with Dean’s. He collapsed onto the man, chest heaving in time with the hunter’s as they both caught their breath. He breathed into Dean’s neck and pressed a final kiss to the sweat-moist skin before he allowed himself to roll off the man and stare up at the darkening sapphire of the early evening sky above.

~ * ~

It took a while for Dean to stir from his post-orgasmic haze. He turned his head to look at the kid – no, _man_ , he decided; he wasn’t going to refer to him as kid any longer – and he saw a tear roll down the side of Sam’s face. _Oh, crap._

“Sam?”

Sam had lost himself in his thoughts, almost forgetting he wasn’t alone. When he heard Dean’s voice, he quickly wiped away the tears that had started to fall and blinked his eyes clear. _What had he just done?_ Not only was his home lost to him for a month, but he’d also just… His father was going to kill him if he found out.

“Yeah?”

“Y’okay?”

“Yeah. Just…a lot on my mind is all.” Sam heard Dean begin to move and glanced over to see the man wiping his stomach and chest clean of the evidence of their recent activities.

“I didn’t mean to-”

He knew the man was thinking that he had pushed him into what they’d just done. “No. It’s not what you think.” Sam hauled himself up from the ground so he could get his clothes.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said, not sounding too convinced. He grabbed his boxers and jeans and stood up to pull them back on. Glancing out at the lake as he dressed, he saw a pair of blue-winged teals alight on the water not too far from them.

The younger man fastened his jeans and slipped his feet into his shoes before sitting on the tree where his clothing had previously been. He watched as Dean picked up a rock and chucked it far out into the water; it skipped several times before sinking under the surface. The man remained silent.

“So.”

Dean turned to him then, soiled t-shirt in his left hand, another rock in his right. He arched an eyebrow, waiting for Sam to go on. Sam couldn’t help but stare at the man, his jeans hanging low on his narrow hips, touches of soil clinging to his still sweaty skin.

Sam didn’t know what to say now that he’d started. He cleared his throat. “That was, um, good.”

“Yeah, it was,” Dean agreed. “Hey,” he started off in the direction of the spilled cooler, “you want a beer?” He stooped and brought the cooler upright again, stuffing the loose bottles back into it so he could bring it over and sit down next to the younger man.

Without waiting for an answer, the hunter cracked a bottle open and handed it to Sam before opening one for himself.

“Thanks,” Sam said as he tilted his head back and took a swig of the now lukewarm beer.

Dean watched the younger man for a second, eyed the muscles working in his neck before bringing his own bottle up and downing nearly half of it in one long and satisfying gulp.

“So.” It was Dean’s turn this time. “You gonna tell me what last night was all about, or do I have to sit here and guess?”

“I’d really rather not talk about it. It was just a stupid accident.” Sam hoped it was enough to put Dean off. Really, what was he going to say, ‘I’m a creature from another world and hunters, these people who kill _things_ like me, nearly caught my ass and deep-fried me'?

Dean looked at Sam, watching him. A small tell-tale tick twitched at the corner of the younger man’s mouth before he looked away avoiding Dean’s scrutiny. Dammit, what had happened last night hadn’t been an accident. _Fuck_.

The hunter stared at Sam, the wheels in his head turning; his grip tightened on the t-shirt still in his hand, hunter instincts kicking in and making him wary. The sun was working its way down towards the horizon as the minutes ticked by and cast shadows over the younger man’s features. Shifter maybe? Demon? Ghoul? Were? Siren? There were so many possibilities. He’d have to get him back to the cabin to run a few strategic tests.

A demon was pretty much out; that was a relief at least. Sam wouldn’t have made it into the house with the devil’s traps he’d had strategically placed at the doorways. But the others were possible along with an infinite number of other things that just weren’t coming to mind at the moment.

Dean sighed and tossed his empty bottle to the ground before grabbing another from the cooler. Or maybe Sam was human. Maybe the hunters had gone after the wrong target. He hated to admit it, but Dean had been guilty of that once or twice. Thankfully, he’d always been lucky enough to find out before he killed some innocent person.

Sam didn’t like lying to Dean; he seemed like a good enough guy. He could feel the man’s eyes on him as he looked out at the small island near the center of the lake where a beautiful stand of trees grew. Beyond that, out in the distance, some twenty or thirty feet below the surface was the doorway to his home. But not today. His soul longed to go home. Even with the window closed, he could still feel the pull of his world.

“Sam?” Dean’s hand came down on top of his thigh. “Sam? Hey.” The man’s fingers came up, snapping just inches from his face. “You in there?”

Sam jumped and looked at Dean; there was concern on his face.

“Um, sorry. It’s just…” He broke off.

“It’s just what, Sam? What’s wrong?” Dean could see the shine of tears in the man’s eyes. When Sam didn’t respond, he leaned over, pushed his bottle down into the ground at his feet so it wouldn’t tip, and then got up. He got in front of Sam and crouched down, hands on the man’s knees. “Dude, I patched you up last night and then let you spend the night in my house. I’m not gonna hurt you. If you need to talk, I’ll listen. I might not be as good as Dr. Phil, but I can give it a shot.”

Sam chewed at his lip and looked down at Dean; a comforting smile was on the man’s face. He broke. “I miss my home.”

 _Okay, college boy misses home already. And school hasn’t even started as far as Dean knew._ “Doesn’t your school have a phone you can use? Hell, if you want, you can use mine. The reception’s shit out here, but it’s better at my house.”

“I can’t call them.” Suddenly, Sam shoved Dean’s hands from him and stood up. He strode over towards the water, not too close though, and he spun to face the elder man. “I can’t call; I can’t go home. I can’t explain, but you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

The lonely call of a loon sounded and Sam turned to face the water. Dean could see a look of longing in the younger man’s features. Another tear spilled down Sam’s cheek and it was wiped it away with a less-than-gentle scrub of the heel of his hand.

“It’s gettin’ late. Let’s say we just go back to my place for the night. I can drop you off wherever you want tomorrow after you get some sleep.” Dean gathered up the empty bottles from the ground and tucked them in the cooler. “C’mon, Sam. I won’t bite.” He stepped up next to the younger man and placed a hand on his arm, breaking him out of his internal thoughts.

Sam was panicked more than anything, but the calming touch of Dean’s hand on his arm helped soothe him. He looked over at the man.

“C’mon. My place. Maybe some food if you’re hungry.” Dean smiled now that he had Sam’s attention.

Sam finally nodded. “Yeah, alright. Thanks.” It would be safer there than out here where there was still a risk of hunters finding him. They had known what he was and would more than likely be scoping out the waterfronts, this one probably being at the top of their list since it was the closest to where they’d lost him.

~ * ~

When they got back to the house, Dean instructed Sam to relax on the couch. He picked up the T.V. remote in passing and tossed it to him. “I don’t get many stations,” he said as he headed into the kitchen to wash up and get something put together to eat, “just the local crap, but it’s something. If you need the bathroom, it’s just down the hall.”

He heard Sam thank him from the other room as he pulled a frying pan out of the cabinet and got it set to warming on the stove. At the same time he turned the oven on to preheat and then shuffled around in the freezer. He pulled out a package of salmon; it was one of the quicker things he had on hand to prepare. Dean had worked up an appetite with all the fresh air and their earlier ‘activities’ and figured Sam probably had, too.

Once he got the fish cooking, he grabbed two more beers from the fridge…as well as taking his Colt out from where he kept it hidden and tucked it into the back of his waistband – _Just as a precaution_ , he told himself – The cap to one of the bottles came off easier than the other and he handed that particular one to Sam as he came into the living room where the television remained turned off.

“Uh, thanks,” Sam said as he accepted it, not really wanting it, but taking it because it was offered. He took a short sip from the bottle and then wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand.

Dean watched Sam closely as he drank, empty hand hovering loosely at his side.

And nothing happened.

Test number one: Passed. Holy water in beer. One of Bobby’s favorites.

Iron had already been put to the test last night. He’d consider that a ‘pass’. That left salt and silver; he could take care of those over dinner.

“Food should be ready in ten or fifteen minutes,” Dean commented as he returned to the kitchen.

“You need any help?” Sam offered, getting up and following him into the room.

“Sure. You can set the table if you want.” Just then the oven beeped, signaling the fact that it was preheated. “I just gotta throw some fries in.”

Dean pointed Sam in the direction of his drawer of silverware and then to the cabinet where the plates and glasses were kept. From the corner of his eye while he worked at preparing their meal, he watched as Sam pulled out forks and knives (pure silver) without flinching. Test number two: Passed.

That just left salt.

As promised, fifteen minutes later, Dean brought out two serving dishes; one had fish and the other, fries. He tossed some salt over the fries when he set the plate down and noticed a look of discomfort on Sam’s face. _Was it the salt?_ Dean was hoping Sam would pass all of his tests, had actually been fairly positive he would, but… _shit._

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Sam’s eyes went from the dish of pan-seared salmon up to Dean. He swallowed. _Fish. It had to be fish._ His forehead creased. “Um, not a fish person?”

“Oh, shit. I should have asked.” Dean looked down at the pile of garlic and herb-spiced fish on the plate. “You want me to put something else together for you?” He started to get up from his chair, but Sam stopped him.

“No, I’m fine. Really.” He grabbed a handful of fries and dumped them onto his plate and then he reached across the table to retrieve the bottle of ketchup. “I could live off of fries, believe it or not,” Sam said with a smile. “They’re one of my favorite foods.”

Dean smiled. He felt bad about the salmon, but he was relieved to see Sam passing test number three: Salt.

“If you’re sure. I mean, I’ve got-”

“Seriously, I’m good, Dean,” Sam assured the man with a broad smile as he stuffed several ketchup-laden fries into his mouth.

“Yeah, okay.” And then Dean dug into his own food, savoring the flavor of fish as it melted over his tongue.

~ * ~

After cleaning up from dinner, the two men sat down and enjoyed one of Dean’s favorite Bruce Lee movies. When it was over and the end credits were rolling, Sam was slouched in the corner of the couch, eyes heavy. There was no way the young man was going to be able to sleep like that.

Dean carefully moved Sam’s legs off his lap and got up, giving him a nudge as he did. “C’mon, Sam. Bedtime.”

“Huh?” Sam jumped. He looked up at Dean.

“Bed, man. There’s no way your sasquatch-sized ass is sleepin’ on the couch. I don’t fit on it. You think you will?” The hunter chuckled. “Up,” he demanded. “After what we did today, I think we can survive sleepin’ in the same bed. I’ll even loan you some sleep pants if you want.”

Sam gave in with a groan and hauled himself up off the couch. “You think I would turn down a chance to get into a bed with you?” He grinned. “Dude, I kissed you first.”

“True.” Dean headed down the hallway towards the bedroom. Over his shoulder, he said, “By the way, I sleep in the nude.” When he glanced back at Sam, he saw the shocked look on the man’s face. Dean tossed his head back and laughed. “But I’ll keep the boxers on tonight if it makes you happy.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

They behaved themselves overnight…mostly. But maybe this morning Dean had a slightly better idea of how well Sam kissed and how nice the man's skin felt beneath his exploring hands.

When Dean woke up, he found that he had spooned up against Sam’s warm back while they slept. If he moved just right, he could rub his boxer-clad morning wood against the crack of the man’s ass. He shifted forward slightly, just enough to imagine what it would be like, but he had to back off when a small moan escaped from his own throat. _If only…_

Dean would love to just slide right into Sam’s tight heat, but he didn’t know one very important thing: did Sam top or bottom? There was a very good chance Sam was a top. Dean had certainly seen some boldness in the younger man’s actions yesterday at the lake. – Dean also knew he may have sent mixed signals to Sam from the way he let the man take control of what they had done; that might have been a mistake. – Two tops didn’t generally work out too well in a relationship. Yeah, Dean would bottom on occasion, but it really wasn’t his thing.

Well, that would have to be discussed later. Right now, Dean had a craving for some caffeine. He carefully untangled himself from Sam (it wasn’t easy with the way the younger man had his long legs threaded with Dean’s and his hand was wrapped firmly around Dean’s own) and moved to the edge of the bed, dropping his feet to the floor. He looked back at Sam when he felt movement behind him. The man had shifted into the empty space on the bed, let out a quiet snort, smacked his lips, and then settled into a deeper sleep again. Dean bit back a silent laugh. It was scary that he felt what he did for this near stranger, but there was definitely something there.

He stood up and grabbed a pair of sweats out of the bureau, pulling them on before leaving the room. As he left, he closed the door quietly behind him. He was sure Sam needed the extra sleep; he’d been through a lot in the last couple of days. It wasn’t like they had anywhere they needed to be.

Dean went straight to the bathroom to take a leak and brush his teeth and then he headed into the kitchen to get the coffee pot up and running. He took a mug out of the cabinet and set it next to the machine. While he stood there leaning up against the counter waiting for the brew as it began its gurgling and sputtering, he noticed the notification light flashing on his phone; it was still sitting on the kitchen table from the previous night. _Son of a bitch._ He’d forgotten to bring the phone with him when he had gone to bed. Dean _never_ left his phone out of hearing range. Someone could die if a call was missed.

He immediately checked to see who called. Bobby. The man had called three times during the early hours of that morning, the first coming in a little after 4:00 a.m., the second twenty minutes later, and the third at 5:00 a.m. “And the man says I get up early,” Dean grumbled as he stepped outside to call the man back. From the looks of things, Sam would be sleeping for a while longer, but he couldn’t be too careful.

Dean fidgeted a bit as he waited for the man to answer. Repeat calls weren’t something to be taken lightly, not in their line of work. The phone was answered on the second ring and he allowed himself to breathe. “Bobby? Everything okay?”

“’Bout damn time you called back.” At least Dean knew the man was alright, albeit a little cranky.

“I was doing something called sleeping.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face and through the short spikes of his hair, still trying to wake up. He shivered a little in the morning chill. He should have put a shirt on, too. But hindsight was a bitch even on the best of days.

“Sorry, but this is important. – Now I know I said I wasn’t gonna go givin’ you any jobs for a while, but I’m gonna have to renege on that. I need your help with something.”

Dean closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the wall of the house. _Great freakin’ timing._ But he couldn’t turn the man down. “And you felt the need to call me three times in the middle of the damn night? Dude, if you’re not dying-”

“Dean, boy, don’t you go given me any of that attitude. You’re not too old for me to give you a whoopin’.” Dean instantly shut his mouth. He’d seen the business end of Bobby’s belt on several occasions growing up. And he knew he’d been deserving of it each and every time and, to this day, he still feared it. Bobby continued once he knew he had Dean’s attention. “Okay, now that you’re ready to listen... It’s a case in Copper Harbor, Michigan. Vulcan Creek to be exact.”

A certain pointy-eared character immediately came to mind, but Dean chose to be smart and didn’t comment on it. “Where the fuck is that?”

“Upper Peninsula of Michigan, way out on the eastern end, in the middle of nowheresville.”

Dean let out a heavy sigh. If he was right in his estimation, that was somewhere near an eight hour drive. Not the worst in the world, but still, bad timing. He wanted to explore this thing with Sam some more…and shit, Al was looking to have him work on the GTO this week. He pressed a thumb and forefinger into closed eyelids and asked, “Okay. What exactly are we lookin’ at?”

“Well, they’ve recently got three people gone missing up there; the last being just yesterday. I’ve done most of the research for you already. There were a slew of killings exactly twenty-three years ago in the same area-”

Dean knew exactly what it was. “Wendigo,” he groaned. “Shit, Bobby.” He hated the things. Fast, almost too fast, and just plain nasty.

“Yep, that’s what I’m thinkin’. And you’re the only one in the area who can handle one of them things; otherwise I wouldn’t be callin’ you.”

“Yeah, okay. Just… Hell, give me a day to pack up and get some affairs in order. I’ll head out tomorrow.”

“I’d say I was sorry, but I know deep down, you’re probably itchin’ to get back out there, even after just a couple days.”

“I guess.” Dean honestly wasn’t looking to get away right now, not when he had a nice, hot looking man in his bed at the moment, one that he wanted to fuck into tomorrow if he’d let him.

“You alright, Dean?” Bobby had obviously heard the lack of enthusiasm in Dean’s voice.

“I’m good. I was gonna call you later this morning anyway. I found the guy, Sam. You know, the one from the other night.”

“And?”

“He passed all the tests…holy water, silver, salt, iron. He’s good, Bobby.” Dean heard a sound from inside the house and peeked through the window. He saw Sam in the kitchen pouring a mug of coffee for himself. The younger man turned away from him and Dean let his eyes roam over Sam’s broad shoulders and back. _God, he was a beautiful man._

“I’m glad to hear that. So, you gonna tell me all about the first date then?”

“Christ, Bobby! Would you cut the shit.” Dean laughed. “We’re-”

“Already at the ‘we’re’ stage, I see.” Amusement came through the line with the man’s words.

“It’s none of your damn business,” Dean snapped back with humor. “Just e-mail me whatever info you got on the job. I’ll call you later.”

“Already done,” was Bobby’s answer. “And you best leave your boyfriend home for this. Don’t want an innocent gettin’ hurt. You also need to have your head completely in the game or that wendigo’s likely to take a bite right outta your ass.”

“I know.”

~ * ~

Sam looked up from the kitchen table when Dean came back inside. “Oh, hey. Was wonderin’ where you were. – Hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to coffee and toast.” He gestured to a plate of toast sitting in front of him with his coffee cup.

“Mi casa es su casa. Whatever you want, help yourself. Just check the expiration dates on stuff. I just got home from working the other night. I haven’t been here in a while.”

Dean’s words made Sam wonder again about what the man did for a living; he remembered the business suits hanging in the closet. But he didn’t get a chance to ask as he watched the man come over to the table, pick up one of his slices of toast, and then take a large bite out of it. “Hey!” Sam laughed, dimples showing with his bright smile. Dean made him laugh and it felt good. If somehow he could last out the month with the man, it might not be so bad.

Dean caught Sam by surprise when he suddenly leaned over and kissed him. “Good toast.” He smirked and waggled an eyebrow at the younger man, reaching out to tousle Sam’s hair a moment later.

Sam batted Dean’s hand away and then reached up and curled his large hand around the back of the man’s neck, pulling him in for a deeper, more passionate kiss. They may have only known each other for a little over twenty-four hours, but Sam felt a bond with this _human_ like nothing he’d ever had with one of his own kind.

As they pulled away, Dean’s eyes fell to Sam’s lips. “Hang on a sec.” He bent back down and licked the side of Sam’s mouth.

Sam had no idea what the hell Dean just did and his face must have shown it.

“Jelly. You had some on the side of your mouth. Tastes better on you than the toast,” Dean said, still smiling.

“Well, there’s a whole jar of it left in the fridge. We might be able to work something out,” Sam teased as he took another bite of toast. He was half hard just thinking of Dean’s tongue licking him clean of the sweet and sticky condiment.

“Mmmm. Sounds tasty. But first,” Dean pulled a chair out from the table and swung it around so he could straddle it, “you and me, we need to have a little chat.”

Sam swallowed the half-chewed piece of toast that was in his mouth; it was a solid lump going down his suddenly dry throat. Nervous eyes glanced up at Dean, then looked down to the table in front of him. “If you want me to leave-” The younger man began to get up from his seat.       

Dean reached out quickly and grabbed a hold of Sam’s hand before he managed to stand all the way up. “No. Sit. That’s not it at all. I don’t _want_ you to leave.” He continued to hold Sam’s hand in his as he spoke. “I’d like nothing more than to have you stick around. But Sam, don’t you have school starting up soon? I’m sure you have a life you can’t just get up and walk away from.”

Shit. Dean was still assuming he was a college student. Sam had brushed by that comment yesterday, but now it was coming up again. And really? Dean didn’t want him to leave? Sam let his thumb trace back and forth over the soft skin of the man’s hand.

The omission of a few idle details wouldn’t hurt for the moment. “No, not right now. I was here to continue my studies – they just wrapped up a few days ago – but some bad stuff happened recently; it was all a little unexpected. I think my father’s a little pissed about it, too, and, well, I’m sorta stuck here for the time being. No money. No job. Nothing.”

Dean watched as Sam’s eyes dropped to the table again; there was a hint of embarrassment there. _What kind of father would just leave their kid with nothing?_ He had tons of questions – Sam’s answer was a little vague – but right now didn’t seem like a good time to ask. And really, what right did he have to question the young man sitting in front of him? Hell, look at the shit Dean was hiding. He had a whole arsenal of weapons hidden in his trunk.

“Huh, okay.” The hunter gave Sam’s hand a tight squeeze, causing the younger man to look up. Holding his eye, Dean said, “Well, like I said earlier, my place is yours. But I do have to leave for a few days. Work calls, unfortunately. I’m gonna need to head out in the morning. When I get back, we’ll figure your situation out, see how things stand.”

Sam bit into his bottom lip; tears pricked at his eyes and he blinked. Dean was offering him a place to stay for now. He’d be safe from hunters, at least for several more days. He nodded, not knowing how to thank the man.

Dean stood up then, leaned over, and pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead. He remained there for a few heartbeats, lips against the man’s brow, before he straightened up and smiled. “I gotta take a shower. And then after, if you’re gonna be here while I’m gone, we’ll need to go to the store to get some things, namely food. I have to stop by a friend’s place, too, let him know I’m not gonna be able to do a job for him until next week.”

“You’re sure about this?” Sam just couldn’t believe this near stranger was trusting him like he was.

A grin full of perfect, white teeth shone at him. “Absolutely. – And we can pick up some clothes for you while we’re out, too…unless you happen to have some hidden away somewhere.” Dean had a couple of credit cards which weren’t quite maxed out; he’d been holding off on using them, but he could splurge a little.

“I, um, have a locker down at the train station in St. Cloud.” This wasn’t Sam’s first trip to the human world and, most likely, not his last; there was no reason to dispose of good clothing when the odds were he’d need them again; comfortable clothes in his size weren’t easy to come by.

“St. Cloud?” Dean wondered how the hell Sam ended up nearly fifty miles away, in Hillman of all places. He wanted to dig for more information, but once again refrained from asking questions.

“Yeah. That’s where my father sent me to do my studies.”

“Okay.” An hour out and back. He could do that. Although shopping would be easier. But then he looked at Sam and remembered how unbelievably tall he was. The man had to be close to six and a half feet; it wasn’t often Dean found people that much taller than himself. The local clothing store probably didn’t carry his size. “Add that to the list then,” he said as he finally turned to walk down the hallway. “I’ll be sure to leave you some hot water.”

Sam watched Dean disappear down the hall. It was a nice sight, the soft gray material of his sweatpants clinging to his ass, his muscles flexing in his back as he moved. His gaze fell to more fine scars interlaced with one another across the man’s shoulders and torso. They didn’t take away from the man’s beauty, but they made Sam wonder about Dean’s past all that much more.

~ * ~

Sam had just finished cleaning off the table when he heard Dean padding back into the kitchen.

“You can just leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll take care of them,” Dean said as he stepped up behind Sam and wrapped his arms around the younger man. He nuzzled into the heat of Sam’s neck. “Your turn in the shower. I left some clothes out on the bed, things that might have a chance of fitting you. There’s also a toothbrush in the bathroom for you.”

Shower. That meant water and water meant… “Okay.” Sam nodded meekly, hair falling over his face as he pulled out of Dean’s embrace.

Dean took Sam by the arm as the young man skirted around him to head to the shower. “Sam… Look at me.” Soulful hazel eyes looked up and met his. “We all fall on hard times once in a while. Don’t worry about it.” Dean was having a difficult time connecting the confident lover from the lake with the wounded young man standing in front of him. “I mean it. Now go on.” He gave Sam a light swat on the ass to get him moving. A smile peeked out as Sam turned to go. “If I’m not in here when you’re done, I’ll be outside with the car. Take your time.” Dean wanted to give the Impala a quick once-over before his trip tomorrow, check the fluids, tires, and whatever else came to mind while he was out there. He also had to go through his weapons cache, make sure he had everything he needed for a wendigo hunt.

~ * ~

Sam walked into the bedroom, this time noticing a couple of black and white nature photos hanging on the walls; they looked to be professionally done, but he recognized the lake out back in one of them. _Had Dean taken them?_ If he did, he had some incredible talent.

The furniture didn’t seem to be brand new, but it was matching and in decent shape. The headboard looked to be handmade; each spindle had intricate carvings of trees and forest animals. The same detail ran along the fronts of the bureau and two nightstands flanking the bed. Upon closer inspection, he noted strange symbols woven into the woodland scenes. They intrigued Sam and he made a mental note to ask Dean about them at a later time.

Sam had made the bed when he got up this morning; the soft down comforter was smoothed out flat and the pillows were piled high at the headboard. Memories of curling up next to Dean’s warmth last night made Sam smile as he picked up the stack of clothing the man had left out for him. He was nervous about shifting in Dean’s house, but he had said to take his time, that he’d probably be otherwise occupied with his car. It should give Sam plenty of time to get back on two feet again.

He stopped by the door on the way out, looking at the few items laid out on the bureau: a photo of a boy (maybe about four years old) standing in front of a young man and woman (Dean with his mother and father?); a silver ring lay near the photo and he fingered it, feeling the cool metal against his skin (upon closer inspection, it seemed to match the ring on the man’s finger in the picture); several business cards were in a pile (the topmost of which had the name ‘Dean Rodgers’ in bold letters on it – _Was that Dean?_ ); a few car magazines were stacked neatly at the end (upon thumbing through them, Sam smirked when he caught sight of a skin mag). There were so few things in the room that it looked like Dean could pack up all of his belongings and be gone within minutes. Maybe the man just didn’t like to be tied down with too many material possessions.

~ * ~

Sam locked the bathroom door behind him and then plugged the drain in the tub before running the water for his bath. Bathing wasn’t really a necessity while in his bipedal form – his kind’s genetics were to thank for that – but it still felt good to sit back in a fresh tub of hot water.

He stripped out of his boxers and stepped into the bath when it had filled enough. Sam turned off the tap and settled back as he felt his body changing. Less than a minute later, he unfurled his long tail onto the edge of the tub and stretched; there was no way to explain how good it felt to be in his natural form. He let himself slip under the water, the tension falling away as he allowed himself to relax.

His eyes sprang open some time later to the sound of Dean knocking (more like pounding) on the door. Sam sat up instantly, water sloshing over the sides of the tub and onto the tiled floor.

“Sam? Sam, y’okay in there?” Dean sounded worried, like he’d been out there too long waiting for Sam to respond.

 _Fuck_. “Yeah, sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” Sam silently berated himself for leaving himself in such a vulnerable state. If Dean had gotten into the room somehow…

“Dammit, you had me scared, man.” Dean dropped his forehead to the door. It had only been two or three minutes total, but it was enough to set him on edge when Sam hadn’t responded to his knocking. He had been all set to pick the lock on the door.

Sam worked on getting himself out of the tub as he spoke. “Just, uh, gotta dry off, brush my teeth.” _Get my legs back._ He sat on the toilet and began to towel himself off. Every last bit of water had to be gone in order for him to shift.

“Okay. Don’t take too long. I wanna get the trip to St. Cloud out of the way as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, okay. Just give me a couple of minutes.”

~ * ~

Dean already had his jacket on and was impatiently pacing the living room when Sam finally emerged from the bathroom. He wasn’t used to having to wait for someone else. Usually, he just went, no anchors holding him down…not that he considered Sam an anchor in any way. It was just different not flying solo.

“Ready?” he asked.

Sam was a little nervous about going out with Dean. There was always the chance something out of his control would happen while out in public…rain, someone could spill a glass of water on him, anything. And that would be the end.

“Yeah,” he said as he sat on the edge of the couch and pulled his sneakers on.

~ * ~

Sam had only been in a car on a few occasions. Usually, if he needed to go somewhere, he walked or took public transportation. He knew Dean was watching him out of the corner of his eye as he drove, but Sam couldn’t help but be intrigued by the Impala. He kept running his hands over the warm leather of the seat and playing with the radio. Dean seemed more than a little amused by his fascination. When Sam looked at the man, Dean just lifted an eyebrow, smirked, and said, “Glad you like her. She’s a good car.”

The ride to St. Cloud went without incident. Sam produced the key to the small locker and pulled a worn duffel from it. It held about half a week’s worth of clothing and nothing more.

“That’s it?” Dean asked, surprised. “Where’s all of your other stuff? Don’t you have any personal things, like pictures…or I don’t know, books?”

“I travel light. Most of my stuff is at home.”

Sam’s smile disappeared and his whole posture deflated at the mention of his home. Dean didn’t know what to say. Whoever Sam’s father was, Dean felt he needed to give the man a piece of his mind. But for now, he wrapped an arm around Sam and led him back out to the car.

“Come on. Let’s get outta here. I’ll buy you some pie at the store when we get back into town. It’ll make you feel better. Hell, maybe I’ll get myself some, too. Love me some pie.”

Dean made some kind of lustful noise over the mention of his favorite dessert and Sam managed a small smile. He hefted his bag onto his shoulder and let Dean lead him out to the car.

~ * ~

They stopped for a bite to eat on the way back to Hillman. Sam had a salad while Dean pulverized a triple bacon cheeseburger. All Sam could do was watch in awe. When the older man caught him staring at him with a weird look on his face, he asked, “What?”

“Nothing.” Sam just gave Dean an innocent grin and stuffed another forkful of lettuce into his mouth. He couldn’t see what humans enjoyed so much about eating meat. He ate it himself on occasion, but definitely preferred to stick to vegetables and some fruit. He smiled again when he thought about what the man’s reaction would be to what he normally ate while at home.

“Hey, it’s better than that rabbit food you’re eating,” Dean retorted, mouth still full of half-masticated burger.

~ * ~

They spent a while at the market shopping for food for Sam. After arguing about what to get, Dean just handed Sam the cart and gave him the run of the store. The hunter wasn’t upset; he just couldn’t understand how someone of Sam’s stature could eat what he ate and still be able to walk. Just for shits and giggles, Dean threw a bag of gummy worms into the cart before Sam could see him. _Come on, the man needed some kind of sugar._

~ * ~

A quick stop to Al’s rounded out their day. When the two men entered the front of the shop, the bell above the door announcing their arrival, Al came in from the garage, wiping grease from his hands on a rag.

“Dean,” he said, and then his eyes fell on Sam. “I see you found your missing friend.”

Crap. Dean forgot that he had Al keeping an eye out for Sam, too. “Shit, Al. Sorry. I forgot to let you know I found him yesterday. – Al, this is Sam. Sam, Al.” He introduced the two men to each other.

“Howdy, Sam. I’d shake your hand, but,” he gestured to his still greasy hands. The man eyed Sam up and down. It was how he got a ‘feel’ for people when he first met them. “My, but you’re a tall one, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “I’m glad Dean found you. You make a cute enough couple.”

“Al!” Dean’s jaw dropped. He’d never told the man that he swung that way. He glanced at Sam whose face was bright red, but was covered with a wide smile as he shyly dropped his head. He looked too cute standing there with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his long hair falling over his young features.

“Dean. I’m old, but I’m not blind and I’m not old-fashioned. You do what makes you happy. – So, what can I do you for?” He tucked the rag in his back pocket and leaned up against the doorframe. “Something tells me you didn’t stop in just to introduce me to Sam.”

Dean cleared his throat, still trying to get over the shock that Al had him figured out so well. “Yeah. I’m gonna have to work on the GTO next week. I got a call this morning and have to head out to another job for a few days. S’that okay?”

“Son, I told you it doesn’t have to be done for a whole month. Do what you gotta do. It’ll still be here.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Sam goin’ along with you?” The older man looked between the two men.

“Nah. He’s gonna stay at my place, keep an eye on it for me.”

Al looked at Sam then. “Well, Sam, you need anything, just let me know and I’ll do what I can. Dean here, he’s helped me out of some tight spots. He’s a good friend. I’m more than willin’ to return the favor.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, almost bashfully. Sam wasn’t used to so much attention, but he liked Al; he got good vibes from the man.

They said their goodbyes, but as Sam and Dean turned to leave, Al called out, “Dean, can I have a word with you?”

Dean glanced back at the man, then to Sam. “Sam, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Sure, no problem.” Sam nodded and walked out the door. He was curious, but whatever it was, it was none of his business. It wasn’t like he and Dean were in an official relationship or anything.

Dean looked back at Al. “What’s up, Al?”

“I just thought you’d like to know, you’re not the only one who’s been in here asking about Sam. I had two men come through here less than an hour ago asking for someone who fit his description. They didn’t look too friendly either.”

Dean’s mouth pressed into a tight line and the muscle in the side of his jaw ticked. _Fucking hunters._ “They leave you with any contact info?” He knew when he was hunting, he usually left a card with his number, and if he could find out who they were, he could let them know Sam wasn’t whatever they thought he was.

“Nope. Nothing. But I didn’t say anything about you lookin’ for ‘im. None of their business, you know. I was gonna try callin’ you, but got caught up in this here job. I gotta get this car done by two or I’ll never hear the end of it from old Mrs. Flanders.”

Dean glanced out the window to where Sam was sitting patiently on a wooden planter waiting for him. He turned back to Al. “That’s alright, Al. Just tell me what they looked like, but make it quick. I gotta get Sam back to my place.”

Less than five minutes later, the Impala was racing back to the house, dust from the gravel road billowing up in its wake. Dean had to call Bobby, but dammit, he couldn’t have the conversation in front of Sam. They had to get these hunters off Sam’s ass before he ended up dead just because some idiot didn’t do their homework properly.

In the meantime, Sam sat quietly in the passenger seat trying to figure out what had just happened. _What had Al said to Dean to get him so worked up?_


	5. Chapter 5

 

Dean told Sam to stay in the car as he pulled his keys from the ignition and got out; his phone was practically to his ear before the driver’s side door slammed shut behind him. Bobby didn’t even get a ‘hello’ out before Dean started. “Bobby – fuck, man – those hunters are still snooping around here. I need you to find out who the hell they are and get them off Sam’s case.”

“Dean, slow down, son. Now start at the beginning and tell me what you know. I’ll see what I can do.”

Dean proceeded to tell Bobby everything Al had relayed to him before they had scrambled back to the house.

“Hell, Dean… If that’s who I think it is, you best get your boy outta there. And fast.”

“Why, Bobby? Who’s after him?”

“From your description, it sounds like Clyde and his buddy, Jarvis. They’re good, Dean. And they don’t give up until they get what they came for. And no one gets in their way. You know Gordon Walker? Just picture two of ‘im.”

Dean ran his free hand up through his hair and glanced back at Sam who was sitting patiently in the car. “You’re shittin’ me.” He kicked a rock, sending it hurtling down the driveway. He was already pissed off, but now he was getting worried.

“Are you positive Sam’s-”

“Bobby, dammit, Sam’s _human_. I’m sure of it.”

“Well, if Clyde and Jarvis got a taste of ‘im, they ain’t gonna stop until it’s too late.”

Dean paced the yard, eying the trees as he did. His mind was working overtime trying to find a fix for this. “Then I’ll take him with me. I’ll take him to Michigan, leave him at the motel while I take care of the job. Then we’ll head to your place after.”

“You’re gonna take him on a hunt with you? I’d highly recommend against that.”

“I don’t have any other options. He’s safer with me than anywhere else. And I gotta get the job taken care of. You said someone just went missing yesterday. There’s a chance he’s still alive. I can’t just not go.”

“It’s your call, Dean, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Hey, you just try to get in touch with those two sons of bitches. Tell them I said Sam’s not some monster, that they got the wrong guy. If they’re not outta here by the time I get back, I’m gonna have another hunt on my hands.”

Bobby was quiet upon hearing Dean’s threat, and then, “I’ll see what I can do. You just keep yourself and Sam safe. And call me once you get that wendigo taken care of.”

“Will do, Bobby.”

Dean disconnected the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. It was hot out and he wiped the sweat from his brow as he squinted up at the sun high up in the sky. He knew he had to calm down, get himself under control. Dean could already see that Sam was starting to retreat into himself; he couldn’t let that happen. They were just starting to build something here and Dean didn’t want to lose that.

~ * ~

Sam sat in the car and watched Dean having a very animated conversation on the phone. He could hear the man’s voice rising and falling as the discussion wore on, even through the closed windows of the car. Sam also noted that Dean was looking out into the trees every now and then. He could almost say that there was a certain paranoia about the way the man was behaving.

At one point, Dean turned and they made eye contact. Sam could see the fury in the man’s normally serene features. It was another side of Dean that he had never seen and Sam looked away. He didn’t think it was directed at him, but it was unsettling nonetheless.

It was growing hot in the car as he waited for Dean to be done with his call. Sam cracked his window just slightly and then rested his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. Minutes later, he jumped when the driver’s side door opened with a loud groan and Dean leaned down so he could see him.

The man gave Sam no explanation as to what was going on. “Let’s get the groceries in the house,” he said before slamming the door shut again.

 _Well, okay then._ Sam unfolded himself from the car and went around to the trunk to help unload the bags. He didn’t say anything; he could sense the man was still worked up and thought it best to remain silent. While they pulled out the groceries, he noticed Dean was still keeping an eye on the surrounding trees. Sam looked around the perimeter of the yard, but he saw nothing.

Once they were inside, Sam couldn’t hold back anymore. He set the last of his bags down on the counter and asked, “Dean, what’s going on? Why are you freaking out? What did Al say to you?”

Dean was halfway down the hall when he heard Sam’s quiet voice. His duffel was already packed for the trip in the morning; he just had a few necessities to throw in it. “We’re goin’ on a road trip. Just get the groceries put away and I’ll tell you once we’re rollin’. – If you see anyone outside, yell for me. Don’t let anyone in the house.” He turned and continued on his way to the bedroom.

Sam was too dumbfounded to ask any more questions and proceeded to transfer the food from the bags into the refrigerator. A couple minutes later, Dean returned from the bedroom, two large duffels slung over his shoulder. He dropped them to the floor when he came into the room. One landed with a soft _thud_ ; the other sounded like metal jarring against metal. Sam could only wonder what was in that bag.

“If you gotta use the bathroom, I suggest you do it now. We’re gonna be in the car for a while; it’s a long ride.”

“Dean,” Sam stopped everything he was doing and looked at the man, hands planted flat on the countertop, eyes growing defiant, “I’m not doing anything else until you give me a little more to go on here.”

“Sam, there’s no time. We gotta go.” Dean was going around the living room pulling the curtains closed on the windows, but Sam could see the man pausing at each one to look out into the yard before doing so.

“No, Dean.” Sam approached the hunter hesitantly. He was unsure how the man was going to react to his sudden lack of cooperation, but he needed to know what was happening. “Tell me. Please.”

“Fuck,” Dean muttered under his breath. He glanced out the window at the rear of the kitchen as he came back into the room, then to Sam. How was he going to do this without letting the younger man know what was _really_ going on? Telling someone he was a hunter never exactly went over too well; he wasn’t ready to tell Sam the truth about himself. Dean wiped a hand over his mouth and sighed. “We haven’t been able to talk about what happened to you the other night, but I have good reason to believe whoever did that to you is still around. Like close. Al said they came to his shop looking for you this morning.”

At that, Dean saw Sam’s face change. The man was suddenly terrified. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but what I _do_ know is that they shouldn’t be going after you. I can get you to a safe place until they’re taken care of. That’s who I was on the phone with, a friend who can get them to go away. But you gotta trust me.” Dean stepped forward and reached for Sam…but the man backed away.

~ * ~

Sam listened to Dean, his words. Not only were the hunters back, but little things were starting to fall into place, creating a larger, more frightening picture: Dean being able to patch up his shoulder the way he had (the man hadn’t panicked in the least finding him lying near dead in his yard); Dean’s ‘job’ taking him away for long periods of time; the lack of material possessions; Dean’s ‘friend’ on the phone who could conveniently make these hunters go away; Dean’s firm belief that he could keep Sam safe; and the scars… How could he have not seen it?

When Dean stepped forward to reach for him, Sam moved back; his heart was pounding in his ears; his hands were beginning to tremble.

Dean was a _hunter_.

Sam turned and ran. He was out the back door before Dean could catch him.

~ * ~

“Oh, shit! – Sam! No, don’t!” Dean bolted out the door after Sam, automatically drawing his Colt as he ran. But the scene he stepped into made his heart stop.

Two scruffy looking men were in his yard. One held a crossbow aimed directly at Sam, the other, a Beretta targeting the young man as well.

“Well, looky who we have here, Jarvis,” the man with the crossbow spoke up with a crooked smile on his overly freckled features. The hunter had a head full of shaggy, red hair and was dressed in typical hunter-style clothing: utility jacket over a t-shirt, worn blue jeans, and work boots. “If it ain’t the world’s greatest hunter himself, Dean Winchester. I thought I recognized the car. Ran into your daddy quite a few years back while he was still drivin’ it, even saw you when you were – oh, I don’t know – fourteen years old or somethin’. Heard you settled down in these parts, but didn’t know you’d be shackin’ up with something like this.” He gestured to Sam with the point of his weapon.

Jarvis snickered. The man was lanky, maybe six feet tall with white-blond hair cut close to his scalp; a dragon tattoo curled up the side of his neck coming to an end just above his right ear; the look in his eyes was deadly. Now that he knew who he was up against, he pulled the hammer back on his gun and settled into a defensive posture; he couldn’t be too careful with a Winchester.

Dean had his gun aimed at Clyde, but he had to keep his eyes on both men since Jarvis now had his gun pointed at him.

“He’s not what you think. I’ve put him through all the tests. He’s human.”

~ * ~

Sam was surrounded on all sides by hunters; he had nowhere to go. His breath was coming in quick pants as reality was sinking in: there was no escape this time. He heard the conversation going on around him, but he wasn’t really listening to it in his panicked state. There was one thing that was said that _did_ register though: Dean’s real name. _Dean Winchester_. He’d heard the surname before, in his teachings about hunters. It was a name to be avoided at all costs.

He looked at the two men in front of him. The guy on the right seemed to be the one calling the shots for him and his partner; he was also the same hunter who had shot Sam the other day. Sam’s eyes fell to the deadly barbed tip of the bolt not twenty feet in front of him and an involuntary shiver coursed up his spine.

The _snick_ of the hammer being drawn on the other’s gun had Sam turning his eyes in that direction, but the gun wasn’t aimed towards him; it was pointed at Dean. _Wonderful._ Not only were hunters there to kill him, but they were trying to kill each other, too.

“Lower your weapons,” he heard Dean growl at the two hunters.

“Sorry, Dean. Not gonna happen,” Clyde replied. “This one’s been givin’ us the run around for days now. Fucker gave us the slip just the other night. We’re ready to end this hunt and move on.” He narrowed his flinty eyes and Sam could see the man flexing his trigger finger.

Sam had nothing to lose. His kind were slightly faster than humans and he prayed it would be enough. He turned and fled. As he did, he thought he may have heard Dean yell, but several ear-splitting gunshots rang out through the air at the same time; in what direction they were fired and who fired them didn’t matter now as Sam ran. A crossbow bolt flew overhead and struck a tree just to his left as he escaped through the woods behind Dean’s house. If he could make it to the lake, he’d be safe for now.

The quickest way to the water was via the well-worn footpath, but Sam would be an easy target if he took that route. Instead, he kept to the trees, ducking and dodging branches, jumping over fallen limbs. Behind him, he heard the loud noises of the hunters giving chase; the sound caused him to increase his pace.

Finally, the lake came into view and Sam risked a glance behind him. The hunters had lost some ground, but they hadn’t given up; their angry voices could still be heard through the trees. When he turned back around, it was as if the tree in front of him had appeared out of nowhere. Sam collided solidly with its wide and unyielding trunk. The impact stunned him and he had to give himself a second before he could continue moving. As he stumbled forward, he heard the hunters closing in. Sam could only hope he hadn’t made a costly mistake.

As he approached the water, Sam had to skid to a stop to shed out of his clothing; he kept looking frantically over his shoulder as he did so. His shoes were kicked off first, then he worked at yanking his socks, jeans, and boxers off; his hands were shaking so badly that it took longer than it should have. A twig snapped behind him and Sam looked up; he was just getting his second foot out of his pants.

“Enough running,” Clyde hissed as he caught his breath and stepped out from the trees, Jarvis right on his heels.

Sam’s eyes drifted to the forest behind the men, hoping against all odds that Dean was there. He was Sam’s only real hope. But then again, in the end the man was a hunter just like these men; Sam was a creature. It probably wouldn’t end well.

Clyde knew what, or rather who, Sam was looking for. “He’s not coming. Jarvis took care of him.” The hunter grinned as he saw Sam’s face fall. “Tell me, did you two have something going on? Was Dean fucking you? ‘Cause if so, that’s just sick. From what I’ve heard, he hasn’t been right in the head since that demon took down his daddy a couple years ago. It’s a shame really, seeing a man fall like that.”

Sam inched back, but came to an abrupt halt when Clyde brought his weapon up. “Nuh, uh, uh. Don’t move. You ain’t gettin’ near that water.” The man stepped forward a few paces, the other hunter flanking him. “Any which way you look at it, you’re dead, but it’ll be a lot less painful if you cooperate. Stay still and I’ll get you right through the heart. One shot, I promise; you won’t even feel a thing. But if you try to run again, well, I might just miss and have to take a few shots. I’m sure Jarvis would love to fill you up with a pile of consecrated iron rounds.”

Sam was frozen in place, gripped with fear; his chest felt as if it had a metal band wrapped around it making it difficult to breathe. “But why? I haven’t done anything to hurt anyone.” The sweat dripping down Sam’s forehead mixed with his tears and stung his eyes. “Please. My people are peaceful. We only come here to learn things.” Sam had to try; he was desperate.

“You’re not human. Your kind are an abomination like every other supernatural creature out there,” Clyde sneered. “You don’t _belong_ here. You belong in Hell.”

~ * ~

Dean heard the _snick_ of the hammer to the Beretta that Jarvis held trained on him, but he refused to put down his gun.

These guys were real dicks. Dean could see why Bobby compared them to Gordon. Because of that, he feared for Sam’s life. He was stalling by talking. There had to be something he could come up with, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure anything out. He was outnumbered by two hunters who, Bobby had said, were good at what they did. That meant they knew his thought processes and moves. There would be no tricking them.

“Lower your weapons,” Dean growled, voice low in anger. He tightened his finger on the trigger of his Colt as he spoke; he had to be ready for anything.

“Sorry, Dean. Not gonna happen,” Clyde replied. “This one’s been givin’ us the run around for days now. Fucker gave us the slip just the other night. We’re ready to end this hunt and move on.” The man shifted his stance; Dean could see the muscles in Clyde’s arms tensing up. He knew the man was getting ready to pull the trigger on Sam.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose when Sam decided to make a break for it. Dean took a shot at Clyde, aiming for his shoulder; it would be just enough to take him out of commission. Unfortunately in doing so, he’d had to take his attention off Jarvis who decided to take a shot at Dean at the same time. Dean’s shot went wide as Jarvis’ hit its mark, right in the thick muscle of his left thigh. Dean fell to the ground with a yell as he gripped his leg. “Mother fucking son of a bitch,” he hissed through clenched teeth. When he caught up with those bastards, they were so dead.

By the time he got up to his feet again, all three men had disappeared into the woods. He had a feeling he knew where Sam was headed, not yet understanding the younger man’s infatuation with the lake. Dean had been so sure that Sam was human and that the two hunters had erred, but the slightest bit of doubt was starting to niggle at his mind. Sam was reacting as if he knew what hunters were.

From the direction the men had taken, it would take them twice as long to get to the waterfront than if they had taken the path. It would give Dean time to get there; he hoped Sam would be able to hold his own until then. Dean grit his teeth and braced himself as he made his way down the trail as quickly as his wounded leg would allow. He had no time to give himself the proper medical attention to stop the bleeding. It would have to hold up until this thing was finished, whatever the outcome might be.

After what felt like an eternity, Dean finally came up on the clearing by the lake. He kept himself hidden for the moment, listening to Clyde going on about his thoughts on Dean and his thoughts on what he assumed Sam to be, whatever that was.

Dean’s eyes fell on Sam. He was breathing heavily from his run through the trees; his dark hair was plastered to the sides of his face with sweat, and he was naked from waist down. Dean had no idea what that was all about. _Had Sam planned on swimming away to safety?_ But why would he take the time strip down if his life was in danger? Aside from his state of undress, Dean could see that the man was clearly scared. Sam’s eyes were wide with fear as he began to plead with the hunter in front of him.

Then Dean heard the words directly from Sam’s mouth and he felt himself nearly stumble, the bullet wound having nothing to do with it.

“But why? I haven’t done anything to hurt anyone.” Sam’s voice was broken and trembling. “Please. My people are peaceful. We only come here to learn things.”

“You’re not human. Your kind are an abomination like every other supernatural creature out there. You don’t _belong_ here. You belong in Hell.”

Dean had heard enough. Whatever Sam was, he didn’t deserve what Clyde felt he did. Dean stepped out of the trees. This had to end…now.

~ * ~

“Well, now,” Dean’s voice came from the path leading to the house, causing both Clyde and Jarvis to look away from Sam, “that’s a little rough, don’t you think?”

Sam took advantage of the sudden and unexpected distraction. The water was only yards away; it was now or never. He spun on his heel and ran.

When he did, several things happened at once: Dean yelled; a gun shot rang out, then another; something impacted with Sam (one of the hunters?) forcing him from his feet just shy of making his leap into the safety of the water; another shot reverberated through the air as he fell to his knees; Dean yelled again, but this time Sam barely heard it as several more shots were fired; a burning sensation suddenly coursed throughout his body as a poisoned bolt sank deep into the soft, giving flesh of his lower back; he could feel it’s wrath racing through him. A moment later, another struck him. He cried out in sheer agony; the pain engulfed him and his body seized up, no longer under his control.

Gunfire continued to erupt around Sam as the hard earth came up and met him mercilessly. He reached a shaking hand out towards the water, fingers just barely making contact with its coolness. “ _Phileas_.” The name barely had time to form in his mind before the darkness closed in around him. _So this is what it feels like to die._


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

Dean’s ears were ringing from all the gunfire when he found consciousness again; his left leg was both throbbing and burning at the same time. He rolled himself over onto his back, the long grass rustling around him as he did, and let out a groan as the world above and around him spun slowly, finally settling into place only after blinking his eyes a few times. Reaching up to his chest just under his right collarbone, he winced when he met with what was surely a bullet wound, his fingers slipping through the still warm slick of blood. When he ran his hand across his body, Dean came across another one just above his left hip, only a handspan away from his heart. _Those fuckers got me three times!_ No wonder he was passed out on the ground half dead. He was sure he lost a lot of blood.

But he was certain he had gotten them before he went down. That’s what counted. His trusty Colt was still in his hand; he’d kept a grip on it even as he’d fallen.

And then the rest of Dean’s mind cleared and he pushed himself up from the ground…maybe a little too fast as the world tilted once more and he stumbled, unable to support himself on both legs. He spied both Clyde’s and Jarvis’ still cooling bodies hidden in the tall grass nearby, each with a deadly bullet wound in their chest. Then his eyes fell on Sam. The young man was lying, facedown, near the water, right arm outstretched in front of him; the water was lapping at his clenched fingers…and he wasn’t moving.

“Oh, Sam,” Dean whispered as he limped over to the man. Pain from his injuries tore through him, causing Dean to grimace as he sagged down to the ground beside the man, a tear spilling down his cheek. Two bolts were protruding from Sam’s back and Dean could see at least one bullet wound, but he couldn’t be sure; there was so much blood. He tucked his gun into the back of his jeans and reached trembling fingers out to the younger man’s neck. “Let there be something…please.”

And there, but very faint, was Sam’s pulse. Dean closed his eyes and allowed himself to breathe again. But what the hell was he going to do now? He didn’t have the energy in him to carry Sam back to the cabin; it was too far. _Would Sam even last long enough to get him there?_ Dean wasn’t even sure he would last that long. Well, he had to try.

He looked down at the two bolts and made the decision to leave them where they were. If he pulled them, there was a risk of internal bleeding and Dean wasn’t willing to take that chance; things were bad enough.

The hunter growled, pushing the pain back as he shifted to pull Sam up from the ground; dark spots appeared in his vision as he nearly fell under the man’s weight. “C’mon, Dean, you can do this.” He forced himself to move, every step feeling like he was balancing on the edge of a precipice as he tried to keep from stumbling. By the tenth step, his leg decided it didn’t want to work with him anymore. And he fell.

Thankfully, Sam remained unconscious, but Dean screamed out in agony, breath coming in short, labored pants. The spots increased until they took over and he fell into oblivion.

~ * ~

Dean was dreaming. He dreamed of two men coming out of the lake, and they spoke to one another in a language unknown to him. One came to where he lay with Sam across his bloody lap. The man looked saddened as his gaze fell upon them. He spoke quiet words to the other who was several feet away checking on the dead hunters’ bodies. Then he knelt down and did something to Sam…checked to see if he was still alive? More foreign words spilled from his mouth in a rush, causing the other man to come over and join him.

Then Sam’s weight was lifted from Dean and Dean cried out at the sudden change in pressure on his wounded abdomen. At the same time, he wanted to reach out and hold on to the younger man, protect him from these strangers, but his body wouldn’t obey; his fingers barely twitched. They were taking Sam from him. “Sam…”

For a moment, Dean thought that they were going to leave him there to die…alone. But after what he guessed were a few tight, clipped words shared between the men (their tone had changed from what he’d heard before), the second man approached Dean and he felt himself being lifted from the ground by strong arms. More pain lanced through Dean from the movement and he felt himself slipping away again.

~ * ~

“Dean?” Dean heard a familiar voice calling out to him, but it seemed distant. “Dean, son. Wake up.”

Dean’s eyelids were heavy as he tried to open them. With more effort than he thought would be necessary, he finally managed to lift them. His vision was fuzzy, but he thought he could make out Bobby. “Bob-” The word got caught in his overly dry throat.

“Here, drink some of this.”

He felt a cup being pressed to his lips and he drank. The cool water was soothing as he swallowed, but it was taken away too soon.

“Not too much. Don’t need you chokin’ to death after everything that’s already gone on.”

Dean blinked a few more times and the older hunter started to come into focus. “Sam?”

“He’s alive.”

That was all Dean needed to hear as he closed his eyes and let sleep take him away once more.

~ * ~

Another day passed before Dean awoke again. This time when he opened his eyes, things were clearer. The first thing he noticed was that he was in his bedroom. He frowned and went to run a hand over his face to clear the sleep away, but his arm was held down.

“Not that one. I had to string you up on an I.V.”

Dean groaned. His body felt heavy and too relaxed; he was sure he was chock full of Ovaltine. Bobby could always be counted on to have the good stuff. But speaking of Bobby, how was the man even here?

“Bobby… How?” Dean’s voice was rough from lack of use.

“They called me. I came right away when they told me what happened.”

“They?” Dean was confused. He looked around the room; it was empty aside from the two of them.

“Yeah, the Limnades…water people. Sam’s family, Dean. They found my number in your cell phone.”

Dean fell silent. With everything that had happened, Dean had forgotten the most important thing: Sam _wasn’t_ human after all.

“Limn-what?”

“Limnades. They’re a type of water nymph that are found in lakes. I always thought they were all women, but apparently the mythology on them was a little off.”

“Sam’s a water nymph?” Dean closed his eyes. And to think he’d almost had sex with the man. “Shit,” he muttered more to himself than Bobby.

“We can talk about that later, but, Dean, how are you feeling right now? You lost a shit ton of blood. Had to dump a good amount back into you. Dug three damn bullets out, too.”

“I’m feelin’ fine and dandy.” He briefly glanced down at the I.V. stuck in his arm, then back up at Bobby. “Whatever drugs you’re pumpin’ into me, keep ‘em comin’.”

“That’s good. I got enough to get you through one more day. You’ve got quite the cocktail flowing through you, antibiotics included, because you were runnin’ a decent fever. So make sure you keep that needle in until I say.”

 _Awesome_. “How long have I been out?”

“Three days.”

Dean swallowed and then grimaced at how sore his throat felt. “That bad, huh?”

“Worst you’ve been in a while. – Here-” Bobby saw Dean’s pinched features and knew what was wrong, even if the man didn’t ask for help. He got up and poured him a glass of water. “-have something to drink. That saline solution will keep you hydrated, but does nothing for a dry mouth.”

Dean took the cup and drank from it.

“What the hell happened out there?” the elder hunter asked. “Orestes said he thought all of you were dead when he and Phileas came out of the lake. He said they could _feel_ Sam dying.”

Dean had vague memories of what he had thought was a dream. Two men had come from the lake and carried him and Sam off. “Who the hell is Orestes?”

“I am Samuel’s father,” a deep voice resonated from the bedroom doorway, startling both men.

~ * ~

Sam drifted. His body ached and his mind was weary. His memory was foggy and he didn’t know where he was. All he knew was that he was in the water, which had the distinct and soothing smell of healing oils, and was currently in his natural form.

“Sam?” a voice called out to him from somewhere nearby. He blinked his eyes open. For the moment, all Sam could see was bright light and the silhouette of someone standing above him. He groaned as he waited for his vision to clear; he was so tired. “Sam, brother, wake up, even if only for a moment,” the soft voice said.

Sam shifted in the water. His tail was curled under him and met with resistance as he tried to stretch out; he felt confined in the small space. A gentle hand brushed his hair back from his forehead and the touch was familiar.

“Phileas?” Sam stared hard at the person leaning over him, willing his vision to clear. He waited until the man came into focus and, sure enough, his brother was there with him. Phileas’ long, dark brown hair, which was normally pulled back and tightly braided, cascaded over his strong shoulders; his eyes, the color of the deepest, greenest sea, were full of concern and worry lines crinkled at their corners. Everything came back to Sam as he took in his brother’s disheveled appearance. “I was dying… You came?”

“As you knew I would, brother. I could never ignore your call; you should know better than to doubt me.” Phileas moved to sit on the edge of the tub where Sam had spent the last couple of days, his body mending from what the hunters had done to it. “And I felt _everything_ , Sam, your pain, your suffering. You were at Death’s door. When we arrived, your heart was close to failing; the poison in your blood was killing you.” Then the man’s lips ticked upwards into a smile behind his close-cropped goatee revealing a perfect set of teeth. “But you’re going to be fine now.”

Sam suddenly thought about Dean. The hunter had been trying to save his life. _Was he still alive?_ There had been so many gunshots. “Is Dean-”

Phileas’ smile disappeared at the mention of the hunter. “Dean is alive. He’s just in the other room resting from his injuries.”

Sam relaxed upon hearing that the man was okay, or at least alive. He didn’t notice the change in his brother’s expression; he was too relieved that Dean had survived the encounter with the other hunters. And then he realized something. “Phileas, you said, ‘we’. Is our father here?”

“He is.” The man nodded. “And he’s currently meeting with your human friend, who, I might add, is lucky to be alive.” He gave an aggravated sigh then. “A hunter, Sam? After Laertes… I’d think you’d know better.”

“I didn’t know what he was.” Sam bowed his head. “Everything just…happened.” A span of silence passed between the two men. “How come I wasn’t just taken home to heal? And Dean? I don’t understand. You didn’t leave him there to die. Why?”

“So many questions, brother. But then I should be thankful you don’t remember much of what happened.

“The cursed iron from those hunters needed to be removed before you could shift; I won’t burden you with the details, but we couldn’t take you home. Due to the severity of your condition, we had to bring you here. And Dean, the _hunter_ … Father wanted to leave him for dead, but I convinced him to bring him as well. I saw the emotion in the man’s face when I took you from his arms; it was like I was tearing a piece of him away. Because of that, I knew something was going on. Otherwise, I would have decided to leave him as well.”

Sam squirmed under the weight of his brother’s gaze and he began to fidget. _It was because of Phileas that Dean was alive._ He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. Phileas, the man who hated hunters, had defied his very own beliefs for Sam.

He knew his father’s and Phileas’ views on hunters – after all, his brother Laertes had been murdered by one when Sam was very young – and Sam had been of the same opinion, had been raised to both fear and despise them. When he had put it together that Dean was a hunter, his heart felt like it had been ripped right out of his chest. But things changed the moment he realized Dean had been there to save him from those two hunters.

Sam was broken away from his thoughts when Phileas spoke again.

“Sam, I’ve warned you time and time again, ever since you started traveling between our world and this one – almost _nine_ years now – not to let your curiosity get the better of you. Yet you didn’t listen.” Phileas pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head in disappointment. “Look at the trouble you’ve found yourself in, nearly getting yourself killed. I’m not exactly in our father’s favor at the moment either because of this. He almost didn’t allow me come for you when I heard your call. Father was still adamant that you be taught a lesson for not returning on time…even if it meant your death. He said you needed to learn your way; that you’ve been leaning on me too much.

“Of course that didn’t sit well with me and we had a fight. You’re his youngest child, and also second in line to his throne until Nicolaus is of age.” The man paused briefly, thinking about his son and how much the child reminded him of Sam in so many ways. “You’re too important to risk like that. He should have never let you come here,” Phileas said the last few words almost to himself; there was some heat to them also. “I told him I wouldn’t leave you here to die, not after Laertes.” He closed his eyes briefly at the pain of their loss. It had happened so many years ago, but it still hurt. “With or without his consent I would have come for you and he knew it. Finally, he gave in, but I don’t think he’s going to be speaking with me for a long time to come.”

The younger brother sank further into the water. Guilt spread through him as Phileas reprimanded him for his carelessness. He knew, more than anything, that his brother was only concerned for his well-being; he could see it written all over the older man’s face. That Sam had caused discord between Phileas and their father wasn’t a good thing either; he swallowed deeply.

“God, Phileas, I’m so sorry. I screwed up. I don’t know how those hunters found me. I didn’t do anything to cause suspicion. I swear. But Dean? He found me, took care of me. When I woke up the next morning and saw him, I just...” Sam tried to hide the heat he felt rising on his cheeks by looking down, but he knew his brother couldn’t be fooled.

The older man chuckled, his mood lightening when he saw the color blossom from Sam’s neck to his cheeks. He knew what had happened. “You fell for him, didn’t you? By the Gods, Sam. You’ve never ceased to be anything less than adventurous, little one. I always told Father that you were just going to get worse as you got older, but he kept insisting that you would grow out of it. I think part of the reason he’s so upset with you right now is because he knows he was wrong.” Phileas leaned back up against the wall, making himself comfortable. “So tell me about your human lover.” He dipped a hand into the water and flicked some at Sam’s head.

Sam smiled at the playful gesture. Phileas had always been able to figure him out; the man was wise beyond his years. “We’re not…”

“But you’re close. I can tell by the look on your face how much you care for the man.”

“Yeah, I…I think I may have feelings for him. But Phileas, what will Father do? I’ve broken one of our laws; I’ve gotten into a relationship with a human.” Sam bit into his lip as it began to tremble. The idea of possibly being cast out, of never seeing his home again, overwhelmed him.

“Sam, you knew better than to do what you did, but what’s done is done; I’ve done all I can for you, bent as many rules as I dare. I believe he’s already rendered judgment, although he hasn’t told me what he’s decided to do with you. I’ve never seen him act like this before; he’s unhappy. – There is one thing you need to remember though.” Phileas tilted his head and looked at Sam then, eyes full of the love only a brother could have.

Sam blinked the unshed tears from his eyes and looked up into his brother’s tender gaze. “What’s that?”

“No matter what, you’ll always be my little brother. I’ll always be there for you.” Phileas stood up then and leaned over to take Sam’s face between his hands. He pressed a kiss to his brother’s cheek. “You need more rest and I must take my leave. We’ve been here for three days and you know how Father is. I will see you again soon…when you are better.”

“Thank you, Phileas,” Sam said as he watched the man exit the room and close the door behind him.

Within minutes, the comfortable warmth of the water lulled Sam’s body into a long and restful sleep.

~ * ~

Bobby moved out of the way as the huge man stepped into the room. He had to be close to seven feet tall and was naked as a jaybird, but he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about his nudity. Dean could see some resemblance between the man and Sam, the long, dark hair, the exotic tilt to his eyes, right down to the goddamn dimples in his cheeks. Aside from the physicality of the man, his skin was covered from ankle to wrist with an intricate pattern of tattoos. The only parts of his body lacking in ink were his neck, head, feet, and hands.

As Orestes approached him, Dean wanted to make some snide comment about the fact that the man had left Sam with nothing to survive on, but he kept his mouth shut. The man’s whole presence was intimidating and his gaze was sharp, disconcerting.

“Bobby has told me that you are the one who saved my son’s life.”

“I didn’t save him,” Dean replied, his voice full of remorse and failure. “He would have died if you and…and what’s-his-name didn’t come when you did.”

“You tried. If you had not been there to stop those hunters from killing him outright, he would not have had a chance. You gave him that chance. I can see from the extent of your injuries that you would have given your life for my child. And for that selflessness, I will bestow upon you my greatest gift.” The man moved forward and leaned over the bed; he was inches from Dean’s face.

The hunter squirmed uncomfortably. _Personal space, dude._ “Hey, I’m not looking for anything here. We sorta, um… But he’s one of you, so… So, yeah, I wasn’t doing this for any type of-”

Dean’s words were brought to an abrupt halt as the man sealed his mouth over Dean’s lips. He was so shocked by what was happening that he didn’t move. The man pulled away seconds later and Dean wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand.

“A kiss? That’s your greatest gift?” Then Dean smirked. “You think too highly of yourself. Sam’s a hell of a lot better kisser.”

“Dean!” Bobby yelled in utter disbelief before dropping his head down into his hands and groaning. “Gonna get us all killed one of these days,” he muttered. The older hunter had already spent hours talking to Sam’s father, trying to get him to understand that not all hunters were to be judged the same way. The man’s trust in them was very fragile at the moment, even if Bobby had warned Orestes that Dean could be, well…a pain in the ass, to put it mildly.

Orestes eyed Dean, holding his gaze until the man’s eyes turned down in deference. He immediately saw why his youngest son was besotted with this human. Not only was he a man of courage, but he was amusing as well. From what he’d learned from Bobby over the last couple of days, this Dean was a good man, even if he could be a bit of a challenge.

“Samuel will explain things to you when he awakens from his healing sleep. It should not be long now.” He turned to Bobby then. “You will tell him I need to see him as soon as he feels well enough?”

“You have my word.”

“Thank you. I will take my leave now. I have been away from our home for far too long. My people need me.” He looked at Dean then. “Dean, take care of my son. I am entrusting you with his life.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Dean was willing the drugs to take him under again because he was at a complete loss with the last five minutes.

Dean looked to the doorway when another unclothed man – Dean assumed it was Phileas – appeared out in the hallway; he was almost as tall as Orestes and decorated in the same dark swirls and spirals as Sam’s father. – If Dean’s memory served him correctly, he was the other man from his ‘dream’, the one who had first approached him and Sam. Phileas had been the one who lifted Sam up and taken him away from Dean. – The man peered over at the hunter, his eyes dark and piercing. There was something in the way the he looked at Dean that bothered him; it was almost as if he was sizing him up. _What the fuck is that dude’s problem?_ – And then Phileas silently stepped away when Orestes turned to leave, leaving the two hunters by themselves once more.

“Bobby, what the hell _was_ all that?”

Bobby shrugged in response. “I don’t know, Dean. I can only tell you what Orestes has told me. It’s not a whole lot, but if you wanna hear it…”

“Well, I don’t think this leg is gonna be letting me go anywhere for a while, so sure. Start the story why don’t you.”

“Alright then. And then you’re gonna tell me how those hunters got to you two, and how you nearly got yourself killed.”

“I didn’t-”

“Dean. Just sit back and relax. Let me tell you about Sam first. I think it’s more important that you know what’s going on before he wakes up.”

“Where exactly is Sam?” Dean asked curiously.

“Bathtub. Orestes had Phileas bring some medicinal salves and oils back from their home to help heal Sam. He’s gonna be fine. Maybe a little shaken up, but he’ll live.”

“Bathtub.” Dean mumbled. “Is Sam a damn _fish_?” He knew Bobby had said ‘water nymph’, but that could mean anything in Dean’s mind…and he had quite the imagination. He could picture anything from a fairy-like creature all the way up to the Loch Ness monster.

Bobby coughed on a laugh and leaned back in his chair. “Well, something like that. His kind shift into something like merfolk when they get wet.”

“So he’s got a freakin’ tail?” Dean’s eyes were wide; the light from the lamp on the nightstand caught the green of his irises and set them aglow, underscoring his amazement in all of this.

“Yep,” Bobby said nonchalantly. “It doesn’t take away from him though. He’s a handsome young man if that’s your thing.”

“Shit.” Dean creased his brow in thought and stared down at his lap for a few moments. And then, “Can I go see him? Just for a few minutes and then you can tell me all about King Triton and all the little mermaids.”

“Dean...” The elder hunter chuckled some more. “Alright. Just take it easy. You got yourself a good handful of stitches and I don’t think you want me fixin’ any broken ones now that you’re awake. And watch out for that I.V. You’re gonna need it for another day so I can keep the meds flowin’.”

Dean sat up, wincing as he felt the pull of the stitches in his chest and abdomen. Slowly, he turned and allowed his feet to drop to the floor. He grimaced as he stood up, his left leg stiff. (Dean didn’t want to know how far his friend had to go in to dig that particular bullet out.) Bobby was immediately at Dean’s side, taking his elbow. (He didn’t fight against the offer of help which surprised the older man.) Dean reached out and took hold of the I.V. pole. It was on wheels and could help him keep his balance as he walked.

“Easy, Dean.”

“Does it look like I’m tryin’ to run a marathon here? I’m goin’ slow.”

Bobby only shook his head. Dean was always grumpy when he was down…and three damn bullets certainly counted as down.

It took much longer than Dean would have liked, but they finally made it to the bathroom door. “I got it from here, Bobby.” He needed to deal with this alone.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, features tense not only from the exertion of making it the distance to the bathroom, but from the anxiety of what he was dealing with emotionally as well. Sam _wasn’t_ human. No matter how many times Dean repeated the words in his head, it still wasn’t real. He knew it would become real enough as soon as he walked through the door in front of him.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.” Bobby knew Dean was dealing with this in his own way. Something more than a platonic relationship had been going on between the young hunter and Sam – that was obvious – and he knew Dean had had the rug pulled out from under him and had landed hard when this all came out. The only thing Bobby could do was be there for the man.

Dean only nodded before he took a calming breath and pushed the door open.

~ * ~

The wheels on the I.V. pole squeaked as Dean limped into the room. He refused to look over at the bathtub until he made it to the toilet to sit down. He was sure he was going to need to be sitting when he finally laid eyes on Sam in his other form.

When he did lift his eyes to Sam, the young man looked like _Sam_ …that was until Dean’s gaze fell to the water and he saw the dark cerulean and cobalt blues mixed with the emerald and forest greens of Sam’s tail folded up beneath him.

What surprised Dean the most was that he thought Sam looked even more beautiful than ever. Before he knew what he was doing, he carefully lifted himself off the toilet and moved to sit on the edge of the tub. He feathered his fingers through Sam’s hair and brushed his knuckles down the side of the man’s face.

“Sam.” Dean’s fingers trailed down Sam’s arm and touched the water. He let them drift lower until he felt the change from soft skin to smooth scales. This whole thing was so surreal that Dean’s mind was still having trouble wrapping around it. _Sam was half fish._

And as strange as that was, Dean still found himself wanting the man.

Time passed too quickly as he sat there watching Sam’s chest rise and fall with every breath he took. Not once did the younger man stir. Dean jumped at Bobby’s soft knock on the door.

The man peeked around the door. “He’ll be sleepin’ for a while yet. Why don’t you come on back to bed. I brought up a couple of light sandwiches for you; you gotta get something in your stomach. I’ll get you up to speed on things, too.”

“Yeah.” Dean fought to pull his eyes away from Sam. He didn’t want to leave the man alone. “Yeah, okay. I’m comin’.”

“Sam’s fine. Look at the bright side, you don’t have to worry about him drownin’.” Bobby tried to lighten the mood. He was happy when he saw Dean smirk, acknowledging the humor.

~ * ~

When Dean was settled back into the bed, Bobby began.

“So, the Limnades, as I mentioned before, are a type of freshwater nymph. They live in lakes like the one you have out back, just on another plane of existence. Every region is governed by a group of three men, the Archons. In this particular region, Orestes is the Archon Basileus, their leader…their _king_. And surprisingly enough, he’s also a demigod.”

“Wait. Sam’s old man is a god?” Dean sat up quickly, forgetting about his injuries momentarily, and grimaced before lying back down and closing his eyes.

“Demigod, not as powerful as a full-blown god, but damn close enough,” Bobby clarified. “And I think you insulted his kissing technique earlier.” He grinned as he watched the words sink into the younger hunter.

“Shit,” Dean groaned out.

“Now be quiet and let me finish.” The older hunter continued on. “They’re a peaceful species and rarely, if ever, come to a head with the human race. Apparently, their kind have been walking amongst us, observing, for quite some time without us even knowin’ it. Orestes didn’t say, but I’m guessing Sam was doing just that when he missed his chance to go home. Clyde and Jarvis screwed that up. He was supposed to return that first night you found him. Unfortunately, those two dimwits found him first.”

Dean interrupted Bobby again. “Hang on, I’m a little lost here. How come Sam didn’t just go home the next day? I mean, he was lying right there on the shore.”

“That’s because the portal to their world is only open for a small amount of time on the night of the full moon. It helps to ensure that their world is never discovered by humans. I think when you found Sam out there, he had gone to the lake to try to go home, but found that he couldn’t.

“Anyway, if any of these observers – Orestes had a word for them, but it was all Greek to me; he never elaborated on what exactly they’re ‘observing’ either – if any of them miss that window, they’re shit outta luck until it opens again. The safety of their population, as a whole, is more important than the individual, I guess.

“There _is_ one exception to the rule though. Orestes can come and go as he pleases as well as those who of his kin who are Marked. He didn’t go into detail about it, but you saw the tattoos on him and Phileas. I’m assuming those are the Marks he was talkin’ about.

“Sam got lucky that what happened to him happened close enough to the water that Orestes and Phileas could sense him or whatever it is they do. Apparently, he was able to get some part of himself in the water when crap hit the fan and they knew something was going on. If it had happened just a little farther away from the water than it did…”

A flash of Sam appeared in Dean’s mind, the man sprawled out nearly dead, his hand resting in the water. “We both would have died,” he filled in the blank.

“You got lucky, son.”

“I guess I should make sure I thank Sam when he gets up for that.”

“Probably.” Bobby tucked the last of his sandwich into his mouth and then washed it down with some beer. “There is one other thing.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Dean eyed Bobby’s beer as he forced himself to drink from the bottle of water the man had given him.

“They aren’t allowed to have relationships with humans. Sam broke that rule and Orestes ain’t none too happy about that.”

Dean choked on his water and wiped his chin off. _Great._ Sam had pissed off his father, a freakin’ demigod, no less. That sounded like loads of fun.

"But he’s willing to let it slide.” _Oh, thank god_ , Dean thought. “The man respects you, Dean. You saved Sam’s life. He even gave you this ‘gift’ of his. Although I can’t figure out what that was all about, him kissin’ you the way he did.”

“Maybe he _likes_ me.” Dean waggled an eyebrow and smiled. “I am irresistible, you know.”

“Yeah, and I’m Oprah Winfrey. Shut the hell up, Dean,” Bobby kidded. “So, any questions, or are we all set with Limnades 101?”

“When do you think Sam’s gonna wake up?”

“I don’t know. They told me that they heal pretty quick, but the poison Clyde used needed time to work its way out of Sam’s system. Those iron rounds had to be pulled from him before he could shift back into his natural form and begin the healing process.”

Just then, as if on cue, Sam walked through the door, causing both hunters to stop talking and look up. He looked like a frightened child and Dean wanted to go to him, but he was hindered by his leg.

“Sam.”

Sam stood there, waist wrapped in a towel. He was gnawing on his bottom lip and wouldn’t make eye contact with either man. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. Everything that happened… Dean, it was all my fault. You almost died because of me.”

Bobby got up then and collected his and Dean’s plates. He excused himself knowing that the two young men needed their privacy. Sam stepped out of his way as he left the room.

When the door closed, Dean patted the bed beside him. “Sam, c’mere.”

“But-” Sam finally looked up at Dean; his eyes were red-rimmed and filled with tears. Ever since meeting Dean, Sam had been all over the grid with his emotions…and right now he was a wreck.

“Sam, c’mon... Don’t do this. I’m not mad at you. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been shot. You know what I am; you know the risks I take with what I do.” Dean forced a smile then. “Hey, you know you’re the first non-human to ever get by me. I was so sure you weren’t something…” He trailed off. That wasn’t coming out the way he wanted it to. “Goddammit, just get your ass over here before you make me get outta this bed and get you.”

Sam moved then. If he walked any slower, Dean would swear he was walking backwards. Finally, he made it to the bed and sat on the very edge by Dean’s feet.

“Not good enough,” Dean said with a smile. He knew he had to draw Sam out again; the sense of guilt that emanated from him was nearly palpable.

With a quiet sigh of resignation, Sam slid further up onto the bed and sat next to Dean.

“Much better.” Dean wrapped his arm around the younger man and pulled him against his side. “You know, I met your dad today. He’s quite the guy. Dude even gave me a kiss.”

Sam shot up so fast that Dean narrowly avoided getting his chin cracked by Sam’s head. “He kissed you?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, he said something about bestowing his ‘greatest gift’ upon me or whatever. What’s that all about anyway? He said to talk to you about it.”

Sam jumped out of bed, towel falling to the floor forgotten. “Shit.”

Dean just _knew_ something wasn’t right about the guy kissing him, dammit. “What? Sam what’s going on? Am I gonna die in twenty-four hours or something?” Dean was worried now. Sam’s reaction was more than a little troubling.

Sam swept his hair up out of his face, gripping it tight between his fingers, and looked over at Dean. “Dean, my father, he’s a just a step down from a god.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“And he just does things sometimes...”

Fuck. Dean found himself tensing up. This wasn’t sounding good. “And…? What did he do, Sam? What was his gift?”

“His ‘greatest gift’ to you was me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phileas was described to look like Jason Mamoa per my darling [RiatheMai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RiatheMai/pseuds/RiatheMai) near begging request. (I guess she deserves it after all the help she's been with this fic; she's like my informal beta...oh, and editor, too.) What a hottie Jason is! LOL! ...And, yes, the fact that he resembles canon!Dean, personality-wise, was intentional. (Orestes may have a little John Winchester in there, too.)


	7. Chapter 7

 

Dean stared at Sam, not believing what the man had just told him. “He can’t just _give_ you to me. You’re not some property to be passed off on a whim.”

“He can, and he did. I’m yours now, Dean. Whether you choose to take me or not, that’s your decision.” Sam sat back down at the foot of the bed. He looked up at Dean and worried at his lower lip. “If you-,” he swept shaky fingers up through his hair, “-if you choose to forego the union…Dean, I’ll die on the eve of the next full moon.” Sam’s words came out so quietly that Dean had to strain to hear them.

The silence that followed was deafening. Dean’s mouth opened then closed, and then suddenly, “Dammit! How is that fair?” His voice rang out through the room, startling Sam to the point that he almost fell off the bed. Within seconds, Bobby rushed through the door.

“Jesus, Dean. Is everything okay in here?” He looked between the two men. Dean looked more than a little agitated and Sam looked like a damn mouse that had just been cornered by the cat.

“No, Bobby, it’s not. That bastard god, Orestes, gave me a ‘gift’ alright.” He threw a hand out gesturing at Sam as he yelled. “He gifted me with Sam!” Dean turned his glare from Bobby to Sam who was now looking down once more. “He gave him to me to…to…marry or whatever.”

Sam really hadn’t expected any other reaction from Dean. Of course the man would freak out about this. Sam understood exactly what was going on. His father had gifted Dean with Sam for what the man had done, but this was also Sam’s punishment for breaking the rules. If Dean turned him away, Sam would pay the price with his life. It was a bit extreme, but Sam _had_ put their entire population at risk by doing what he’d done…gotten into this forbidden relationship with a human. _Forbidden_. The word resounded in Sam’s head as he sat there. He knew this wasn’t going to end well for himself; it couldn’t. Dean was a hunter; there was no way he’d go along with this, not now that he knew what Sam was.

Right now, Dean was livid and Sam found himself hiding behind his bangs again, staring at the intricate pattern of the wood grain on the floorboards beneath his feet. He listened as Dean ranted to the other man, who he assumed to be a hunter as well.

The older man came around the bed and stood in front of Sam. “Is that true, son?”

Sam nodded in response, his long hair falling further over his face.

“Is there any way to undo what your father did? Can we talk to him, change his mind?” The man’s voice was calm; Sam found himself comforted by his presence.

“No. It’s done. We must mate before the full moon.” Sam slowly lifted his gaze up to the hunter’s blue-gray eyes; there was a hint of sadness in them. “That’s not all though.”

“Well, let’s get it all out so we know what we’re dealin’ with. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can handle it.”

Sam looked over to Dean and swallowed tightly before speaking. “The kiss-”

“Yeah, what the hell was that all about?” Dean cut him off. “Was that your dad’s blessing? ‘Oh, hey, here’s a kiss. Make sure to get movin’ on them grandkids’.” His sarcasm was rising right along with his anger.

Bobby jumped in before Dean could keep going. “Dean, can it and let the poor kid talk.” He looked at Sam again. “What about the kiss, Sam?”

Sam cleared his throat and continued. “It’s part of the whole thing. Dean, he… Fuck…” Sam dropped his eyes and stared at the comforter covering the man’s legs; he couldn’t look the man in the eye as he struggled to get the words out. “I don’t know how to tell you this because I know you’re not gonna like it. I’m sorry, but he…he made you one of us.” Sam glanced up and then cowered when the man’s face turned scarlet. He had no idea what Dean would do upon hearing the news that his life was going to inevitably be turned upside down.

Dean’s green eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. “What? No... No way.” He wanted to jump out of bed, begin pacing the room – do something – to get some of the energy that was about to make him explode out of his system, but he was stuck where he was. “You gotta be wrong about that.” But Dean still yanked the blankets off his legs to make sure. What he saw relieved him as he wiggled his toes. “Look. See. No freakin’ tail. You gotta be wrong,” he repeated.

“No. I’m not wrong, Dean,” Sam said matter-of-factly. “But it doesn’t just happen like that. There’s something that has to be done before the transformation is complete.”

“What, do I have to click my heels together three times like Dorothy? Whatever it is, I just won’t do it. It’s as easy as that.” Dean grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand and chugged half of it down before slamming it back on the table. He needed alcohol, not goddamned water. Then it dawned on him. “Oh, fuck… We-”

Sam nodded, knowing Dean had just figured it out. “Our union will have to be consummated. Once we mate, you’ll turn.”

A string of curses flew from Dean’s mouth that had even Bobby blushing. Sam got up and fled from the room then; he couldn’t face the man any longer, not after the look he just saw on his face. Sam would have rather have been left to die than put Dean through this. The man didn’t deserve to have this burden on his shoulders. The next full moon wasn’t even a month away; it was more like three weeks. And Sam’s health would quickly begin to deteriorate in the upcoming days. Really, Dean had a lot less time to decide about their union than he knew.

~ * ~

Sam had gotten dressed and was currently sitting on the front porch steps, an empty beer bottle at his feet and a half empty one in his hand. He jumped when the screen door opened behind him. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw it was the older hunter. The man came over and sat down next to him, leaning up against the other post and groaning as he stretched out the aches in his weary body.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet,” the man stuck his hand out and Sam slowly took it. “I’m Bobby, sorta Dean’s second dad. And yes, if you’re wondering, I’m a hunter, too, but believe me when I tell you, you have nothing to worry about from either me or Dean.”

“I don’t know. Dean seems really upset with me right now.” Sam turned his eyes away from the older man and stared out into the distance. The sun had set not too long ago and the surrounding trees cast long shadows across the yard.

“He’s not mad at you, son. He’s angry because Orestes took your free will away.” Bobby glanced over at the Impala – Even in the dark, its black finish shone like it was new. Dean took real good care of her; John would’ve been proud – and then he looked back at Sam, studying him. He could tell the kid was nervous, probably panicking over what he thought Dean would and wouldn’t do. “You know, Sam, I can tell that man in there has eyes for you. I don’t think it’s the whole ‘union’ thing that’s so much the problem as it’s the whole ‘changing into a fish’ thing, as Dean puts it.” Bobby smiled at just the thought of Dean with a tail. It wasn’t exactly something he’d ever wish on the younger hunter, but it was better than a ton of other things that could have happened to him. “That should be real interesting when it happens.” He didn’t envy Sam when that day came.

Sam was quiet. He looked up at the clear sky above and picked out the stars of Orion as he absorbed what the man next to him was telling him: Dean wasn’t mad at him…and if he interpreted Bobby’s words correctly, it sounded like he thought Dean would go through with the union. But there was still one big issue. “He’s a hunter. Why would he let that happen…the union? He’ll become the very thing he’s apparently been fighting all these years…a creature, something not _human_. Wouldn’t it be easier to just move on and forget about me?”

“Sam, you don’t know Dean the way I do. He’ll never let an innocent die if he’s got any say in it, especially one he has feelings for. And he’ll do whatever he needs to do without any regrets.” Bobby took a drink from his beer and sighed. “That man’s got a big heart; he just needs to learn how to open it. Now why don’t you get your ass back inside before he tries to come looking for you. I know he’s a mess right now, but Dean needs you there with him.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Now go on, son.”

Sam nodded and then pushed up from the stairs, turning to go inside, but before he left, he glanced back to the older man, the corner of his mouth betraying a small smile. “Thank you.”

“Any time. Looks like you’re gonna be family now…and family sticks close, watches each other’s backs. Oh, and Sam, speaking of family… Your dad, he says he wants to see you as soon as you’re feeling up to it.”

The smile that had been trying its damnedest to sneak up suddenly disappeared. “Oh. Yeah, okay. Maybe tomorrow.” And then Sam stepped back into the house, the sound of the door closing behind him seemingly loud after their quiet conversation.

Sam knew he had some explaining to do for his father; it wasn’t something he was looking forward to. The man was sure to ask how he’d allowed himself to be exposed to hunters in the first place, and then there was the whole relationship with Dean. Yeah, not looking forward to that at all.

Bobby sat back and took the time to finish his bottle of beer. This was all one hell of a crazy situation, but aside from the whole ‘fish’ aspect, he knew Sam was going to be good for Dean. The man was a loose cannon these days and he needed someone like Sam to ground him.

~ * ~

The room was near dark when Sam entered it. The only illumination came from the digital clock on the nightstand, but he could sense Dean was awake. He peeled out of his clothing before slipping into the bed and pressing himself against the man’s side, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. A strong arm slowly came down and wrapped around him.

Sam trailed a hand up Dean’s stomach to his chest where he let it settle. “So…a hunter, huh?”

“Yeah, you got me,” Dean replied quietly. “But, Sam, I want you to know you’re safe with me. I’ll never hurt you.” The hunter squeezed Sam’s arm reassuringly as he said the words.

Sam felt Dean’s thumb tracing circles on his upper arm; the touch was soothing. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He pressed his lips to the side of Dean’s chest, being careful to avoid the thick bandage covering what he assumed was a bullet wound. Renewed guilt surged through him for what had happened and Sam let out a shamed sigh as he closed his eyes.

Dean leaned down and kissed the top of Sam’s head. “It’s okay, Sam. That’s not something you just come out and tell anyone, let alone someone you’ve only known for a couple of days. From what I gather, you’re not supposed to tell anyone at all, so don’t worry about it. It’s not like I go around advertising that I’m a hunter.”

Sam shifted and moved up the bed so he was level with Dean. He knew the hunter was in pain, so he kept his touches light, but he needed to know the man forgave him. He tentatively placed a soft kiss to Dean’s lips. When he went to pull away, Dean’s hand slipped up the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair. Sam found himself being tugged back down and then Dean’s tongue was there, slipping past his lips without any hesitation.

As they kissed, Sam’s hand crept down Dean’s chest and slipped beneath the covers, under the elastic waistband of the man’s boxer briefs, and found his hardening flesh. He clasped his fingers around its length and gave it a gentle squeeze, forcing a groan to erupt from Dean which he swallowed down as he sucked on the man’s tongue. They broke away for a breath and Sam rolled his thumb around the crown of Dean’s cock, letting it slip through the precum as he did.

“Let me, Dean. I need to…please.” Sam would feel so much better about everything if he knew the man was still willing to give him this.

Dean said nothing, but his answer came when he released his fingers from Sam’s hair. Sam pulled the covers away, and then slipped down, pulling the man’s boxers off gently so as to avoid aggravating the bandaged wound on his leg. Dean’s erection sprang free and bobbed up against his stomach as Sam released it from the confines of the thin material.

Sam crawled back up Dean’s body, nipping at and kissing along the flesh of the man’s inner thighs as he slotted himself between his widespread legs. He licked a wet stripe up Dean’s rigid shaft, blew a warm breath over it, and then lapped at the head. The hunter rocked up, looking for more and Sam smiled. He would give Dean everything he was looking for, show him that he was worth changing his life for. Sam wrapped his fingers around the base of the man’s cock and swallowed him down.

Dean closed his eyes as Sam sucked and nipped and licked his aching flesh. He relaxed into the pillow and tried to keep from moaning too loudly, knowing Bobby was just down the hall in the living room. One particular bob of Sam’s head and a squeeze of his balls forced out an unexpected groan and Dean bucked up into Sam’s firm hold on his hip. He knew the older hunter had to have heard that, but at this point he was starting to not really give a shit.

And then the younger man pushed a finger into the tight furl of muscle in Dean’s ass and found that wonderful little bundle of nerves. “Sam, fuck!” Dean keened and felt the tingling sensation of his orgasm rushing through him already. It had been too long and he was wound up like a too-tight spring. “I’m, yeah, shit… Sam!” His cock twitched one last time, and then he came into the wet heat of Sam’s mouth, pulse after pulse after pulse. Sam took every last little bit of it down before he released Dean’s spent cock from his lips and came back up to share his taste with him in a slick and dirty kiss.

Dean groaned and wished he could help Sam out when he felt the man softly rutting up against his leg as they shared their kiss. When the younger man pulled away, he worked his way along the length of Dean’s neck, alternating kisses with small bites. “God, Sam… I’ve missed this. Thought I lost you.”

“I won’t ever leave you,” Sam spoke in between pressing kisses against Dean’s warm skin.

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam as he felt the man sucking along his neck, gently marking him. The younger man’s thrusting movements were getting more frantic by the second and Dean felt, more than heard, Sam moan against the tender flesh of his throat. After several more thrusts, Sam tensed up as he found his peak and the sudden hot rush of semen spread across Dean’s thigh. And, fuck, if Dean wasn’t already getting hard again just from that alone.

Sam rolled over onto his back, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Once it reached some semblance of normalcy, he sat up and got out of bed without saying anything and retrieved the towel that had fallen to the floor earlier. He wiped off Dean’s leg before tossing it to the ground again and then settled back in beside the man.

After a long span of silence, Sam asked, “Are we okay?”

“You’re asking me that after…?” Dean grinned in the darkness of the room. And then he added with a more serious note, “Yeah, Sam. We’re good. I just need time to think about everything; it’s a lot to take in.”

They lay together quietly for nearly an hour, neither being able to sleep. Dean eventually broke the peaceful quietude. “You really wanna spend your whole life with me?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam snuggled in closer to Dean then. “And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I just thought you should know…we age at about half the rate of humans, so we’ve got a while.” Dean could hear the smile as Sam spoke.

“Really? No shit. Huh.”

Then Dean pulled Sam over for another kiss.

~ * ~

Sam and Dean slept late into the next morning, both men still recuperating from their injuries, Dean more so than Sam. Dean woke up first to Bobby removing the I.V. from his arm.

“I take it you two’ve made up then.” The older man gestured with his chin towards Sam who was lying half across Dean’s torso and snickered.

“Yeah, looks like.” Dean could feel the blush rising to his face. Bobby had always been accepting of his bisexual nature, but it was a little unsettling having the man standing right there while he and Sam were in all their glory, only a thin sheet protecting their modesty.

Bobby was still smiling when he tilted his head back towards the kitchen. “If you’re hungry, I’ll get some breakfast started for you. Coffee’s already up and runnin’.” As he spoke, he started to take the I.V. bag down from its pole so he could get everything put away. There was no need to keep a reminder of the past few days’ events around.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. Thanks, Bobby. Just give me a few minutes. Gotta get Sleeping Beauty here to wake up first.”

“No rush. – And does he know you call him that? No, wait, never mind. I don’t wanna know. – Just make sure he’s there to help you outta bed. Oh, and if the kid doesn’t faint at the sight of blood, maybe he can help you with some fresh bandages,” Bobby said as he slipped out of the room, towing the I.V. pole behind him, and closing the door quietly so as not to disturb the still sleeping Sam.

Dean leaned down and kissed the crown of Sam’s head. “Hey, you awake?”

Sam stirred and tightened his arm round Dean’s waist, causing the hunter to catch his breath as pain flared through his injury. That woke Sam up immediately and he apologized as soon as he realized what he’d done.

“Shit, Dean. Y’okay. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Sam went to sit up, but Dean grabbed his arm and held it; the hunter smiled at the younger man’s bed head (his hair was sticking up everywhere) and the fine creases along his cheek from where he had been sleeping on it. “Sam, calm down, dude. I’m fine. Just caught me off guard. Really.” He smiled, backing up his words. “Hey, Bobby says he’ll throw some breakfast together for us if you’re hungry, but, um, first I need you to help me change these dressings.”

Sam looked down at the pink-tinged gauze on Dean’s chest and abdomen. He knew that if Dean completed the transformation process, they would heal within hours, not days. But he didn’t say anything. Things seemed _okay_ for the moment and he didn’t want to disturb that. “Yeah, no problem. And food sounds good. I’m starving.”

~ * ~

Dean lay still on the bed as Sam carefully removed the first of the bandages. He watched the younger man as Sam focused on his task, hands steady. “So how’s it work?”

Sam glanced at him before pealing back a strip of tape causing Dean to wince when it pulled on the fine hairs of his upper thigh. “How’s what work?”

“The shift. Is it something you just think about and then it happens?”

“Oh, that.” Sam poured some antiseptic onto a clean cloth and dabbed at Dean’s leg wound. He stilled for a moment when the muscles under his hand tensed from the sting and then continued. “No, it all has to do with water. Just a drop of it on my skin and I shift into my natural form. Dry, I’m what you have here in front of you – two legs, no tail – and, for all intents and purposes, I’m pretty much human.” He smiled. “The only ones who can shift at will are my father and Phileas. The Marks you saw on them? It’s sort of like a permanent spell. It gives them control over the shift. It also lets them move between our two worlds at will when they find it necessary. They don’t have to wait for the full moon.”

Water. That would put a real damper on things. But Sam was right, aside from that, he really did appear human. Hell, he’d gotten by Dean and Dean considered himself an expert at what he did. He _did_ have to question Sam’s last comment though. “Okay, your dad I get, but why is Phileas so special? How come you don’t _all_ have these Marks?”

“You have to complete something called the Rites of Passage. My father’s never called on me to do it; I’m okay with that though, never really felt the need for it.” – Sam shivered at the thought of the Rites. In all honesty, the whole ritual scared him to death. He’d witnessed Phileas going through it. After all these years, Sam still remembered how his steadfast rock of a brother had almost buckled from the pain of the ritual. – “But Phileas, as my father’s eldest child and heir-apparent, went through the whole thing when he turned twenty. He had to be ready just in case something ever happened to our-”

It took a minute for what Sam was saying to sink in. “Whoa, wait a minute. Hang on,” Dean cut him off, and grabbed Sam’s hand, stopping him so he’d look up. “That guy is your _brother_?” The hunter had decided earlier, after the look Phileas had given him, that he had a severe dislike for the man.

“Yeah,” Sam replied, shrugging his shoulders, not understanding what the big deal was. The near scowl on Dean’s face made him wonder though. _Had his brother said something to the hunter?_ Phileas was certainly one to make his thoughts known when it came to all things ‘Sam’, especially when he was concerned for his brother’s safety.

“But the dude looks like he’s at least ten years older than you.”

“Well, I _am_ the youngest of my father’s children. In human years, Phileas would be thirty-three; I’d be twenty-four. So yeah, there’s a bit of an age difference. We’ve been pretty close since our brother, Laertes, was killed by hunt-” Sam broke off, looking down. Talking about hunters killing his brother wasn’t a topic he wanted to get into right now. When he looked back up and made eye contact with Dean again, he saw sympathy in the man’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Wrong place, wrong time, you know?” Sam said by way of excuse. “I was young, don’t really remember much of what happened. After his death, Phileas stuck to me like glue, protective big brother and all. He’s probably the only reason you and I are still alive right now. If it wasn’t for his persistence, our father would have never come; I would have met whatever fate I was destined for, and well, I guess you would’ve, too.”

Dean could tell from the way Sam talked about Phileas, and from the wistful expression on his face, that the two were overly tight. It rankled at him and he felt a tiny seed of jealousy in his gut; he tried his best to bury it for now.

Sam finished re-bandaging Dean’s leg and moved up to the wound on his side. “These seem to be healing fairly well,” he commented as he gently began to remove the second strip of gauze.

“Yeah, I guess. – So, what’s it feel like…when you shift? Does it hurt?” Dean was curious, full of questions. If he was going to have to deal with becoming one of the Limnades, this was stuff he wanted to know before he sealed the deal. He didn’t want to admit it quite yet, but the odds of it happening were pretty high. Sam said there was no way out of it and three weeks wasn’t enough time for him and Bobby to figure out an alternative.

“No. It’s hard to explain. It just happens. But it doesn’t hurt. I always thought it felt kinda good.” Sam smiled. His hopes were rising that Dean might actually commit to the union. Questions were a good thing in his opinion. At least the man was open to the idea of it anyway.

“Huh. Well, that’s good…I guess.” Dean lay back and lifted an arm up over his head, resting it on the pillow when Sam came around the bed to work on the last dressing.

“So you’re thinking about doing it?” Sam asked hesitantly; he kept his eyes down as he worked, not wanting to see Dean’s expression, worried about what he might see there.

Dean cleared his throat and stared at the ceiling for a few too long minutes. “I…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer now.” Sam pressed down the last piece of tape and then began to clean up. “I’ll understand whatever you choose.”


	8. Chapter 8

 

Less than a half hour after Bobby had left the room, Sam was helping Dean down the hall and into the kitchen. Before leaving the bedroom, they had taken the time to get dressed; Dean had refrained from putting his shirt on, not wanting to overdo it. He tossed his t-shirt over the back of the chair as he carefully sat down at the table. Sam poured them each a glass of orange juice after he settled into his seat.

The smell of eggs and bacon wafted up from the stove where Bobby was wrestling with two frying pans. Sam could hear Dean’s stomach growl and was just about to make a witty comment on it when his also decided to betray his hunger; it caused them both to laugh. Soon after, Bobby brought over the pan of eggs and served them.

“You need any help with that?” Sam offered.

“Nope. You just sit there and enjoy the meal. I’ll take care of the cookin’ and cleanin’ today.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said as the older man put a heaping pile of eggs on his plate for him. “You got the bacon?”

“Hold your horses, Dean. I’m gettin’ to it. – So how’re you boys doin’ this mornin’? You both look like you got some color back in you.”

Sam spoke up first. “I’m pretty much back to normal. I think the extra sleep helped.”

“Well, I still feel like hell, but Sam has his ways of makin’ me forget about that.”

The pan in Bobby’s hand slipped and he almost dropped it on the floor. At the same time, Sam turned beet red at Dean’s shameless comment and suddenly had to cover his mouth with a napkin when he found himself with a forkful of eggs down the wrong pipe.

“Dammit, Dean!” Bobby yelled as he approached the table and dumped half a dozen slices of bacon onto the man’s plate. “That’s just not somethin’ I need to be privy to. And look at poor Sam. He’s nearly chokin’ on his food.” He waited for Sam to finish clearing his throat and then offered him some bacon. The younger man waved it away with a “No, thank you”, face still flush between his embarrassment and the exertion of coughing.

Dean glanced over at Sam then and grinned. “Dude, what are you, the blushing bride? You’d think after the things we’ve already-”

“Dean!” Bobby was at the sink now and turned around, throwing a wet dishcloth at the man. Even in Dean’s current state, he still reacted quickly enough to dodge it.

“Really, Bobby? You gotta be faster than that. I’m hurt and you still missed me.”

Sam just sat there grinning at the interactions between the two old friends. His embarrassment lessened considerably as he watched Dean come to life again; it made his heart nearly burst with emotion. Just knowing that this man had almost given his life for him…

“Eat your damn food before it gets cold,” Bobby growled playfully before returning to the dishes in the sink. He had to pull a fresh cloth from the drawer since the other one was still sitting in a wet puddle on the floor behind Dean’s chair.

The remainder of breakfast went by without further incident (except for the one instance when Dean flicked some of his eggs at Sam, hitting the man in the cheek; Sam got him back a few minutes later with a glob of grape jelly that stuck to his bare chest and slid down it, leaving a sticky, purple trail in its wake).

Bobby eventually came over and joined them as he sipped at a mug of coffee.

Dean asked the man about the wendigo hunt and whether or not it had been taken care of. Bobby told him he had been able to get someone else on the job. The hunters who took it found two of the three missing people alive and roasted the beast. Dean felt guilty for not being able to do it himself, but was pleased to hear that it ended up as well as it did.

Sam showed some curiosity in Dean’s life. Bobby was more than happy to share a few of the man’s more embarrassing moments, causing Dean to groan. – Like the one time when he was nineteen and he was on a hunt with both his father and Bobby… The spirit they were after had gotten one up on Dean and had knocked him out early in the job. After the elder hunters had found the bones hidden away in a cabinet in the basement and taken care of them, they had found Dean lying on the floor in the master bedroom and had woken him up. When Dean opened his eyes, he saw the amused looks on the older men’s faces. At his dad’s ‘Look in the mirror, son’, Dean had gotten up and looked. ‘Son of a bitch’ had flown angrily from his mouth before he stormed out of the room heading towards the nearest bathroom. The damn ghost had done a number to his face with the lady of the house’s make-up before they’d been able to take care of things. Not one of his best moments. – But Bobby also told Sam about some of Dean’s greater accomplishments, of all the people he’d saved over the years; the man was like a proud father. This time it was Dean’s turn to blush.

The conversation took on a more somber note when it turned to Dean’s family and upbringing. Dean would have really preferred not to talk about it, but if there was a chance he was going to be with Sam for a long time to come, it may as well all get out now. Besides, Bobby was there; he could tell most of the story.

By the end of the meal, Sam knew a great deal about Dean’s history. He also had more of a handle on what kind of hunter the man was. Things like Sam, well Dean didn’t go after them; John Winchester was more the type of hunter who would have. The elder Winchester hadn’t been as extreme as Clyde and Jarvis, but Sam wouldn’t have been safe around the man. But Sam understood that John had a past – his wife being killed by a demon, how he devoted his entire life tracking the demon – and how that could change a man. Sam had a lot more respect for Dean as a hunter when he learned he had been the one to kill the demon in the end. (It was a little unnerving, too, knowing what the man sitting next to him was capable of.) As far as Dean was concerned, he had less of a black and white outlook on hunting – that had been Bobby’s influence – and he understood that there were gray areas; not all creatures were evil and had to be killed.

Dean and Bobby asked questions about Sam’s family and his kind’s ways. He answered all of their inquiries and then some. His father was a lot like John Winchester had been in many ways, stern and demanding in certain things, but also gentle and caring when he wanted to be. When Dean sat forward and contested that particular point, wondering how a father could just leave his son out there to die, Sam stopped him and explained Orestes’ reasoning for what he had done. He acknowledged that he was at fault whether Dean wanted to hear it or not. Their laws weren’t to be taken lightly; breaking them could put their entire population at risk. Dean continued to argue about it; he had a very strong opinion about how family should treat one another. When Sam adamantly held his ground, the hunter finally sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and shaking his head. Sam could see he wouldn’t be changing Dean’s thoughts about his father’s actions any time soon.

With no small amount of trepidation, Sam mentioned the fact that Dean was going to have to visit the world of the Limnades at some point if, indeed, he did decide to accept the union between them. They would have to meet with Orestes and each be given the Mark of Unity. Dean looked a little rattled about the whole idea, but Sam didn’t push the subject; they could talk about it later. In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have brought that up just yet; Dean was still processing everything else.

It was then that the younger man announced that he was going to return home that morning. If his father had told Bobby he wanted to see him, then he had to go, and it wouldn’t do to keep the man waiting long. Sam felt he was healed enough to make the journey.

Dean set his coffee down on the table and frowned; confusion contended with the bitterness already written on his face as he stared down at the cup for a moment and then looked up at Sam. “I thought you couldn’t go back except on a full moon, that your window…or door…is closed.”

“I was summoned. It gives me something like a hall pass,” Sam explained. He shifted slightly in his seat sensing the mounting tension coming off Dean in waves.

“Oh, so when he suddenly decides he wants to see you, you just go, he leaves the key under the mat for you?” Anger was threading into Dean’s words; his dislike for the demigod was growing by the minute. John might have been a bastard, but he would never treat Dean so callously, like he didn’t matter.

“Dean…,” Bobby warned from across the table.

“What?” The hunter growled in irritation, snapping his eyes over to the other man. “I just think Orestes shouldn’t lock his kids out of the house like that; it’s not right…especially when there’s hunters after them. Sam almost died because of his goddamn shitty-assed rules.”

Bobby stared at Dean, holding his eye as he spoke. “Sam, can you excuse us for a few minutes?”

Sam was actually relieved at the request. He knew why Dean was upset with his father, but the man also didn’t understand the Limnades’ culture, nor his father’s responsibilities. More people than just Sam and Phileas depended on Orestes. As both Archon Basileus and king, he was responsible for the entire population of the region. There weren’t a whole lot of their people left to begin with; if they were found out, it could mean total devastation for their kind. He was more than happy to let Bobby deal with Dean. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to listen to Sam’s reasoning. “Yeah, I’ll, uh, just go take a walk outside. – It’s safe out there now, right?”

The older hunter broke eye contact with Dean then and looked up at Sam as the younger man stood up. “Yeah, you’re good.”

“Don’t go far,” Dean said, glancing up at Sam.

Sam understood what Dean was saying. He didn’t want Sam going out to the lake just yet. He nodded to let the man know he understood. “I’ll just be out front. I’m not going anywhere.”

Both hunters waited until the front door closed behind Sam until they started up again.

“What the hell, Bobby?”

“Dean, boy, you need to simmer down.”

“Fuck, seriously?”

“And quit your cussin’. Until you actually know what you’re talkin’ about and why the Limnades do what they do, I don’t wanna hear any more of your gripin’. You should show a little respect towards that young man. If he’s okay with what his father’s done and how the man treats him, then you should be, too…at least until you’ve got some damn facts. Clearly, there’s gotta be some good reason for why Orestes did what he did. You have to remember, Dean, Sam may look human, but he’s not.”

 _Like he could forget something like that._ Dean glowered at the older man and the muscle in his jaw flexed. “Fine,” came his terse answer. He could keep his mouth shut, but it wouldn’t change how he felt about things.

Dean pushed his chair back and got up, going over to the back door. He looked out the window and eyed the head of the path leading out to the lake. “I’m going with him to the lake. I don’t want him out there alone, not after everything that’s happened.”

Bobby had already figured Dean wouldn’t let Sam make that trip by himself. It was too soon for the young man to return to the scene of their near deaths all alone. At least between himself and Phileas, they’d taken care of the hunters’ bodies while Sam and Dean had been recovering. “What about that leg, Dean? You barely made it to the kitchen on it. You’re not gonna go walkin’ to the lake like that.”

“Don’t worry. I got it covered.” Dean turned away from the door and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He needed to make a quick call.

~ * ~

Bobby and Dean were sitting in the pair of Adirondack chairs on the front porch and Sam was on the steps when Al’s pick-up rolled into the driveway and came to a stop just behind the Impala roughly an hour later. Dean smiled when he saw the four-wheeled ATV in the bed of the truck. After all of this was done, he was going to owe the guy big time. Maybe he wouldn’t even charge the man for the labor on the GTO…once he got to actually working on it.

Since their conversation, or rather  _disagreement_ , earlier, Dean had apologized to Sam, albeit a little less than enthusiastically, but at least he had tried. He didn’t make any promises to the younger man, but said he’d make more of an effort to see things from Sam’s point of view.

Of the three men, Dean was the last to reach Al to greet him; his leg had caused him to lag behind.

When Al saw Dean, he gave a low whistle. “Dean, what the hell happened to you?”

Dean glanced down at his bare chest.  _Shit._  He hadn’t thought to put his shirt on. The two patches of gauze stood out, bright white, against his bronzed skin and he knew his limp was noticeable; his faded scars from past hunts were also there for the man to see. “Got a little banged up on the job.” He shrugged. “I’ll live.”

“You know,” Al narrowed his eyes at Dean, “you’ve never told me what you actually do for a living, but I think I’ve got you pinned down.”

Dean grinned. “Oh, yeah?” There was a challenge in his words.

“It takes one to know one,” the man said cryptically.

Bobby looked from Al to Dean, eyebrows lost up under the brim of his baseball hat. Sam was standing at Dean’s side and took half a step back, not able to help being a little uneasy after what they’d been through over the last few days.

“Yup,” Al continued. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed certain things…the slight limps,” he nodded at Dean’s leg, “the secrets, the roundabout way you go about saying things sometimes, like you have things to hide. I used to live the life until my heart decided to give out a few years back. Damn spirit reached right in there and gave it a good squeeze, screwed it up on me for life.”

“Son of a bitch. Really?” Dean looked at the man in a whole new light.

“Yeah, I started back when I was twenty-two. Had a damn elemental that wouldn’t leave my ol’ granny alone. What a thing to get a start on. Whew! I tell you, that sucker put up quite the fight.” Al chuckled at the memory of it.

“Well, I’ll be…” Bobby said in awe.

“So, what did this to you-” Al’s blue eyes had a spark in them. He looked like he missed the life. “-vengeful spirit, demon? Or maybe something more exotic like a rakshasa? They’re nasty devils.”

“Uh, well. Hunters, actually.”

The older man stood there; Dean could almost hear him thinking. “Those two unfriendly types that came in the other day… I knew they were trouble.” His eyes found Sam and held steady on him for a moment; there was something in the look that Sam couldn’t quite place, but it didn’t feel threatening in any way. “Ah, well,” he slapped his hand down on the railing beside him, “don’t you worry none about me. I’m just the crazy ol’ mechanic. I’ve had my fair share of trouble with hunters in the past. Some of them just get this complex, if you know what I mean. – Anyway, I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to my boring stories.” He glanced back at the ATV in his truck, then back to Dean. “So, the quad’s yours until you’re done with it. It’s good to see someone’s gonna get some use out of it. – Hey, Sam, you think you can help me out gettin’ it down?”

“Oh, um, yeah, sure.” Sam followed the man over to his truck. If he didn’t go, it would probably seem strange to Al. He looked over his shoulder to Dean as he went.

Dean saw the look on Sam’s face, knew the younger man was nervous. Al was another hunter and Sam had every right to be scared. He gave a slight nod, trying to convey to him that he would be okay, that Dean would be there if  _anything_  happened.

Ever wary, Bobby looked at Dean then. “Can you trust him?” His voice was low so only Dean could hear him.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy.” Dean continued to keep an eye on things though, even if it was just to keep Sam calm. “But damn, I never could see him hurt a fly, let alone hunting.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t hurt to have ‘im around then.”

~ * ~

Sam jumped up into the bed of the truck and started to unbuckle the tie-down straps on the passenger side. He wasn’t sure what to think of the look the older man had given him just a minute ago near the porch, so he stayed silent. But Al had other ideas.

“You’re one of ‘em, ain’t you?” Al asked quietly as he stepped up into the truck to begin unstrapping the ATV from the driver’s side.

The younger man was squatting down, working on a finicky buckle. He stopped what he was doing, but didn’t look up. Sam could feel the panic rising in him along with his heart rate; he couldn’t do this again, deal with another hunter. It was just too much.

Seeing that he might have spooked what he was guessing was a Limnade (the first he’d seen in years), Al continued calmly. “I’ve lived in Hillman my whole life, except for when I was out on the job. I know what’s in them lakes. I’ve come across a couple of your kind over the years; nice people, they are. The fact that Dean went head-to-head with those two hunters gave it away. He was trying to protect you, wasn’t he? He’s a good man and I can tell you are, too. You’ll be good for each other.”

Sam looked over at the man then. He didn’t sense any hidden agenda there, just the same friendly vibe he’d picked up on the first time he met him, maybe some innocent curiosity as well. “Yeah, I think so.” He didn’t confirm or deny Al’s observations about himself, but he was struck by how the man could figure things out so easily. He was glad the guy was on their side.

Once they were done unstrapping the vehicle, Sam got the ramp into place while Al hopped on the ATV and started it up. Sam helped direct him as he backed it down the ramp. After it was unloaded, Al bid them all a good afternoon and headed back to the garage just as if it was any other ordinary day.

“Well, if that wasn’t interesting,” Bobby mumbled.

“I always knew there was a reason I liked him,” Dean commented with a smile as he limped over to the quad and gave it a look-over. “So Sam, not that I’m in a rush to see you off or anything, but when were you planning on doing this?”

“Whenever, I guess. We could go now, get it out of the way.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Dean continued to look over the controls on the ATV, familiarizing himself with them. Part of him was trying to hide the fact that he was concerned about Sam going home. He didn’t know why, but he was.

“Dean…”

“Yeah, Sam?” The hunter stopped playing with what he considered a big toy and looked at Sam.

“Al knows what I am.” When Sam saw Dean tense up, he added, “But he didn’t seem threatening when he brought it up. I think we can trust him.”

Bobby was standing not too far away and overheard the conversation. Dean glanced at him; the man only shrugged. “It’s your call.”

“When all of this stuff gets straightened out, I’m gonna have a talk with him. But yeah, I’ll stick with my gut on this one. I think he’s okay.” Dean got up on the quad then, suppressing a grimace when he had to lift his leg over the seat, and then started it up. “Sam?”

The younger man climbed up and settled behind the hunter. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, being careful of the bullet wound on his side and held on as the vehicle launched forward.

“Bobby, we’ll be back later,” Dean called out as they rode off towards the lake.

~ * ~

“You sure you’re okay going back?” Dean was standing with Sam who had already stripped out of his clothes. They were just at the water’s edge.

“I gotta go, Dean. I don’t have a choice. But I’ll be back. I’m his gift to you, remember? I’m sure he just has some questions and probably wants to scold me for getting involved with a human in the first place.” He leaned down and placed a kiss to Dean’s lips. “Wait for me?”

It wasn’t unexpected when Dean pulled him back down. It was a desperate kiss, all teeth and messy. Dean’s anxiety hadn’t lessened and it showed clearly in his stiff posture as they separated and he took a step back. “I’ll be here. I won’t leave until you come back.”

Sam quickly leaned down and kissed Dean again, then he turned around and looked out over the calm water; he felt the pull of his home as soon as he stepped into it. With one last glance over his shoulder, he said, “I promise I’ll be back.” And then he ran out into the water and dove in. A few moments later, he reappeared and looked back at Dean. “I love you,” he called out, surprising the man. Those three words said, Sam turned and disappeared under the water, his tailfin breaking the surface with a quick splash and then he was gone.

 _He loves me?_  “He loves me,” Dean said out loud in a whisper, and then he yelled, “Well, what the hell’d you wait until now to tell me for?” He wasn’t angry, not at all. He just wanted to kiss the man because, goddammit, he was sure he loved Sam, too.


	9. Chapter 9

 

Dean sat in the grass leaning up against the ATV, legs outstretched in front of him. He’d been up several times, stretching his stiff limbs out, trying to keep the circulation flowing, especially in his injured leg. (It was starting to feel better, but he knew he couldn’t push it.) By now, the sun had long ago passed its zenith and was just beginning to embrace the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with bright pinks and oranges. He had spent a good portion of the hours keeping himself occupied by going through a mental list of creatures he knew, thinking of all the different ways they could be hunted and dealt with; he was on the letter ‘R’. – Yeah, he’d admit it; he was bored. He didn’t like waiting. – At some point, Dean began to nod off, chin falling to his chest. He was stirred from his light slumber when he heard someone coming up the footpath. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw it was Bobby.

“Figured you could use some coffee while you’re waiting for Sam…and a shirt. Don’t need you freezin’ to death out here,” Bobby said as he came over and handed Dean a warm thermos and a thick Henley; it was starting to get chilly in the evenings now that autumn was marching in. “Any sign of ‘im?” The older man looked out over the water as he took a seat on the fallen tree where Dean and Sam had sat just a few short days ago…although it felt like ten times that.

Dean had set his shirt aside and was already pouring himself a cup of the dark and bitter liquid. He squinted his eyes, looking out towards where Sam had disappeared earlier, and shook his head. “No, nothing.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s alright. It _is_ his home after all.”

“Yeah,” Dean said without really listening to the man. “Bobby?”

“What is it, son?”

“He told me he loves me.” Dean shifted, drawing his good leg up as he sipped his coffee. He didn’t look at Bobby, but kept his eyes trained on the calm ripples of water that were nipping at the heel of his left foot which was resting just on the edge of the water.

The older hunter was quiet as he waited to see if Dean would say anything more. When it was clear the man wasn’t going to, he said, “That doesn’t really surprise me. The kid’s like an open book when it comes to his feelings; you can read his emotions right there on his face. As plain as day, they are. I could see right away that he’d fallen for you. It seems to have happened pretty quick, but I’m guessin’ it has something to do with what he is.”

 _And what I am…or will be soon_ , Dean thought to himself as he dumped the remainder of his coffee out, the beverage suddenly sour in his mouth. “Fuck, Bobby. What am I supposed to do? I mean, on one hand, I know I have some serious feelings for him, but on the other… Dammit! Why’d that son of a bitch have to go pullin’ that shit with turning me?” He looked up at the older man then, eyes bright with something akin to fear. “I mean, he didn’t leave us with a choice. Either I fuck Sam and become one of them – which, by the way, scares the livin’ shit outta me – or Sam dies. And I _won’t_ let that happen. Sam doesn’t deserve that.”

Bobby knew he was probably the only one on the face of the planet who Dean would open up to like this and he’d never seen the man this out of sorts before, not even when John had been killed. Dean had faced (and beaten) almost every damn kind of supernatural thing out there and never once had that look on his face; it was something Bobby didn’t ever think he’d see. The man was terrified. Bobby saw the feelings – possibly love? – for Sam there as well, and he knew that’s why Dean was even contemplating this. But to know that you were going to change into a completely different being, even if it wasn’t evil…that was something none of them had ever had to confront before. Sadly, it was something Dean was going to have to come to terms with on his own. Bobby couldn’t even begin to figure out how to talk the younger man through this one.

But Dean continued on, relieving the older hunter of his burden for the moment.

“You know, it’s my fault…this whole thing.” Dean studiously picked at the hole in the right knee of his jeans. “Sam left, was gonna go back, but couldn’t because that door, or whatever it is, was closed. I found him lying out here that afternoon and well…you know.” Dean rubbed his forefinger and thumb over closed eyelids and smoothed his hand down over his mouth, then he looked up at the older hunter. “He would’ve been fine if I had just left him alone.”

“Aw, Dean…” Bobby wasn’t the least bit surprised that Dean had found some way to blame himself for this. This was something he’d seen the man do before; someone on the other side of the world could die of natural causes and somehow Dean could figure a way to blame himself for it. “You can’t say that. You don’t know what would’ve happened. That boy was stuck here for another month. Who’s to say he wouldn’t have found you again…or someone else for that matter? I think Sam had it comin’ to him for a long while, at least from what I’ve picked up on from talking to his brother.”

“Oh, yeah, his brother. Don’t even get me started on him.”

“Should I even ask?”

“Probably not.” Dean gave up on tearing at the hole in his pants and sighed. “I just don’t like the guy. He comes across all wrong.”

Bobby lifted an eyebrow. “Dean, you didn’t even talk to the man. How in the world did you come to that conclusion? You only saw him for a second.”

“That was enough,” Dean grumbled.

The older man stood up then. “Well, I can see you need some time to yourself.” He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair before replacing it on his head. “I’m just gonna head on back to the house. – But Dean,” Bobby approached the man and dropped a hand to his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze; the younger hunter looked up at him, “remember you’re a good man. Take a few breaths. I know you’ll do the right thing in the end. If you love him, you’ll be able to deal with the rest.”

“Yeah.” Dean picked up a small rock and chucked it out into the water. _Yeah, he could deal with the rest…sure, no problem, none at all._

Bobby didn’t say anything more. He knew Dean needed time alone to sort through his thoughts. With one last look off in the direction of the lake, he turned and started up the path.

~ * ~

Dean sat in pensive silence; the woeful call of a loon filled his ears and he shivered as a cool breeze kissed his bare shoulders. He picked his shirt up from the ground beside him and pulled it on, the wound in his shoulder protesting as he did.

“Sam, c’mon.” Dean was starting to lose faith that the younger man would return as promised. His worry grew as the minutes continued to wear on – it was going to be dark soon – and he wondered what was going on in the shadowed depths of the lake in front of him. If Sam didn’t come back, Dean didn’t know what he would do.

Contrary to what Bobby thought, the younger hunter didn’t need time to think about things. He knew what had to be done; he just had to gather the courage to do it. When Sam had told him he loved him earlier, Dean knew right then that he loved the man back. Sure, it might have been a bit of a kicker when it finally clicked, but hell, his parents, John and Mary Winchester, had known they loved each other almost as soon as they’d set eyes on one another.

In the distance something stirred and Dean pushed up from the ground, still careful of his leg, and moved closer to the water. His heart rate increased in anticipation of seeing Sam and he grinned, the anxiety of not seeing the man again melting away.

The smile fell from his face when he saw who it was that broke the surface. “Fuck,” Dean mumbled as his body tensed up. _What the hell?_ He scowled and stepped back as Phileas swam towards him and then came ashore.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean tried to keep his eyes off the wet and gleaming tattooed surface of the man’s nude form, but it took some effort; the guy was like walking porn, his movements lithe and sensual. ( _Hey, just because he didn’t like the man didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate how goddamn hot he was…not as hot as Sam though._ ) The intricate markings Dean had gotten just a glimpse of earlier spiraled around Phileas’ long, lean legs, up over his muscled torso, and wrapped around his thick biceps where they proceeded to trail down, ending at his wrists; they reminded the hunter a lot of those tribal tattoos so many people got these days.

Phileas’ upper lip twitched; the smile that appeared on his face wasn’t exactly what Dean would call friendly. “My brother will be along shortly,” he supplied with no further detail.

The hunter watched as the man circled him. As he did, he wondered what they fed these people. Phileas was several inches taller than Sam which meant Dean just barely passed his shoulders…but he refused to be intimidated by a little height difference.

Finally, the man stopped and tilted his head, once more scrutinizing Dean. “I’ll be up front with you. I’m not pleased that my brother’s life mate is a human…and a _hunter_ as well.” He sniffed in disdain. “Our father was wrong in doing what he did, binding Sam to you.”

“Seriously? Did you come here just to tell me you have a problem with me?” Dean couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “Shit. If you’d been there for Sam in the first place, he wouldn’t be in this situation now, would he? He was _trying_ to go home, or maybe you didn’t notice? Maybe you were too busy kissing your father’s ass to care.” Dean couldn’t hold his anger back. If Phileas and Sam were as close as Sam had claimed, he should have kept a better eye on his brother, should’ve been there to help him when he needed it.

The man’s eyes darkened and the muscle along his jaw twitched; his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. “I have yet to see why my brother got involved with you,” Phileas said through gritted teeth, doing his best to ignore Dean’s comment. “It is beyond my comprehension as to why he would still want you after you nearly got him killed.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean’s voice rose. “I was trying to save him. Where the hell were _you_ that whole time? A _brother_ wouldn’t have left him here to die!”

Dean may have gone a little too far on that one; Phileas lost what little control he had been holding onto. On a normal day, Dean may have been able to react quickly enough, but injured? Nope. Phileas gripped him tightly by the shirt, lifting him so that his toes barely caught the ground, and dragged him close, so close, in fact, that Dean could feel the heat of the man’s breath tickle the flesh of his neck as he spoke into his ear.

“Never again accuse me of failing my brother!” The words were low and threatening. When Phileas dropped Dean and stepped back, his face was a mask of fury. “You do not understand our ways. I did what I could, but there are times when Sam must learn from his mistakes.” He narrowed his burning eyes at Dean. “For once I regret not breaking the rules; I should have come for him. It would have saved us the trouble of having to deal with you.”

“Well, guess what, Fishbait? He’s mine now and I’m damn well gonna make sure I take better care of him than you did.” Yeah, okay, maybe Dean was really, really pushing things, but he wasn’t about to sit back and be insulted either. “Why don’t you just back off and go home to your aquarium before some hunter gets a whiff of your scent.”

 _Dammit. Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?_ Dean thought in the breadth of a second before Phileas was on him again. He got a good and thorough taste of the man’s sudden wrath as knuckles connected with his cheekbone; he reeled back from the blow and caught himself before he fell on his ass.

“Ow, fucker! Goddammit!” When Dean shook it off, he looked up at the man and rubbed his cheek. When he pulled his hand away, there was blood on his fingers. “Dude, was that really necessary?”

“You will _not_ threaten me!”

Dean suddenly found a hand wrapped around his throat; the man moved too goddamned fast. It clenched tightly, cutting off his air, and Dean grabbed at it, trying to pry the fingers away.

“Stop! Phileas, no!” Both men immediately froze when the sharp voice shouted out over the water.

Dean heard movement behind him, small splashes, and when he turned to look – Phileas’ hand had fallen away, giving him his breath back and also the ability to move again – he saw Sam _walking_ out of the water. Dean’s eyes instantly fell to Sam’s bare skin. Like Orestes and Phileas, he was now covered with the Marks of their lineage. _What the hell had happened down there?_

Sam’s face was covered with a mix of emotions. Fear, anger, worry; they were all there. And they were directed at both men.

Phileas instantly backed off from Dean, slightly discomfited by the fact that he’d lost his temper with a _human_ , his brother’s future life mate, no less. “Sam.”

“Phileas…”

Sam looked between the two men – his lover and his brother – his wide, hazel eyes finally settling on Phileas. “Why are you here? I thought we talked about this. – And really? Since when do you lose your temper? You could have killed him…and then what would have happened to me? Did you even think?” Sam took a deep breath. He was still in shock at what he’d seen when he’d surfaced. “You said you were going to try, Phileas. – I love Dean and that’s not going to change no matter what you think of him. But I love you, too. You’re my brother...” He looked away then, blinking back the emotion that was threatening. “I don’t want to lose you over this. I can’t.” His face fell and his lip began to tremble.

A moment later, Sam was engulfed in his brother’s tight embrace. The man leaned over and whispered, “I’m sorry. Forgive me. He’s just…difficult. But I can see he cares for you. It won’t happen again. Ever.” Phileas moved away then. “I should probably go.” He looked at Dean who was still gaping at Sam’s Marks and he smiled knowing the man surely had many questions.

~ * ~

Phileas approached Dean and the hunter broke his gaze from Sam and looked at him, eyes full of loathing. “I will offer you my apologizes, Dean. I think we both love the same person too much and it is too easy to find fault in one another for what has happened. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but ask one thing of you.”

The hunter wiped the blood on his hand off on his jeans. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“Take care of Sam. Love him dearly for he is too valuable of a gift to refuse.”

Dean’s moss-colored eyes locked onto Phileas’ fathomless green. Words weren’t necessary. Everything they had to say was passed between them in that look. Dean nodded. And without another word, Phileas entered the water and dove out of sight.

Dean stood there, watching Sam. Aside from the obvious, he looked different, subdued might have been the word Dean was looking for. “Y’okay?” The hunter wasn’t sure whether he should go to Sam or not, so he waited.

Sam wiped a few stray tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand as he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. But I should be asking you if you’re okay. – This whole thing’s been a lot for him to deal with. It’s really just been us two for so long. Phileas means well, but I guess he’s a little overprotective.” He moved towards Dean then and reached up to wipe at the smudge of blood on the man’s face.

“Gee, I never would have noticed. Your brother’s got a mean right hook, but I think I’ll live. – So…new look?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Dean couldn’t help but reach up and trace one of the dark swirls on Sam’s broad chest with the tip of his finger; it may have been his imagination, but he thought he could feel something there as he did. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin, and he felt it again, only this time it was stronger against the sensitive skin of his lips.

“Something like that.” Sam glanced down at Dean’s plush lips trailing along his Marks and he shivered at their light touch; he knew the man could probably feel the power residing in them. He closed his eyes as a soft groan escaped from his throat. His whole body was still so sensitive from the ritual; it had only been a couple of hours since it had been completed. “Dean…” He gripped the man’s upper arms, fingers pressing into the soft cotton of his shirt, and held him tightly. – After everything that had happened today, his lover was who he needed right now.

Dean moved along Sam’s collarbone and licked a wet trail along its ridge, tongue rolling through the glistening beads of lake water still clinging to the man’s skin. He dropped his hands down to Sam’s hips and pulled him forward as he laved his way up the side of his neck and across his stubbled jaw to his mouth. “I love you,” Dean said on a breath before crushing his lips against Sam’s, not giving the younger man a chance to reply. He slipped one hand around Sam’s lower back to pull him close as the other slid up to the nape of his neck, fingers twisting tightly in the long strands of his still wet hair.

Sam shuddered under Dean’s touch as he wrapped his arms around the man’s waist and returned the kiss with a passionate fervor. The sensations rolling through him were a mixture of both pleasure and pain; the Marks hadn’t had enough time to calm and their power flared under his flesh. As Dean’s palm moved across his back, Sam’s skin burned hotly in its wake. He couldn’t help the small agonized gasp that escaped into the other man’s mouth, causing Dean to pull away, eyes full of concern.

“Sam?” Dean backed away half a step and stared up at Sam. The younger man’s eyes were bright with moisture; his features were tight. “Hey,” Dean’s gaze fell to the Marks and then he looked back up again, “Fuck… They hurt, don’t they?”

“Maybe just a little,” Sam admitted, chewing on his lower lip as his discomfort subsided.

Dean went to place a soothing hand on Sam’s arm, but stopped himself. _Shit._ “Jesus, I’m sorry. If I had-”

“I’m alright, Dean. It just hasn’t been that long since it happened. It stings a bit, but you can still touch me.” Sam reached out and took Dean’s hand in his own, bringing it up to rest just over his heart. He grinned then and looked down almost shyly.

“What?” Dean eyed Sam wondering what was going through his mind; he could feel the strong and steady rhythm of the man’s heart beating under his palm.

“You said you love me.”

~ * ~

They returned to the house where Bobby was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs, enjoying a beer and reading a book under the soft glow of the porch light. He set the novel down and got up when he heard the sound of the ATV coming from the rear of the house. A few seconds later Dean brought the vehicle up to a stop in front of the porch.

Bobby noticed the Marks trailing down Sam’s arms almost immediately and lifted his brow at the man. “Looks like you had quite a bit to discuss back home, huh?”

Sam climbed down from behind Dean and made sure the man didn’t have any issues getting down himself with his leg. “Yeah, my father felt it was time to take me into the fold,” he said softly. “Not exactly something I wanted to do, but I didn’t really have much of a say in things.”

Then the older hunter caught sight of Dean’s cheek as the man walked up beside Sam and put his arm around him. “What the hell happened to you?”

Dean reached up and pressed his fingers up to the cut under his eye, wincing slightly; he knew it probably looked worse than it was. “I pissed off a tree, a really big one.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it looks like.” Bobby shook his head, knowing full well that Dean was hiding something. Well, if he didn’t want to talk about it, that was his business. “C’mon, you two idjits. I’ll fix some dinner up for you. And you better enjoy it because I gotta leave in the morning.”

“Sick of us already?” Dean kidded with the man.

“Do you really have to ask?” Bobby chuckled and turned to head into the house. “Nah, Rufus called and it looks like some big ugly is stirring up trouble just outside of Madison, Wisconsin. He asked if I could lend him a hand.” He held the door open as both men followed. “You two look like you can survive without me anyway. You’ll probably need some time to yourselves, too, to…well, you know.”

“What?” Dean stopped at the door, already smirking. He’d seen the blush rise up on Bobby’s cheeks.

“Dean, no,” Sam begged from his side.

“C’mon, you don’t want me to say how-”

Both Bobby and Sam shouted, “NO!”

“Well, fine.” Dean mocked being hurt, but he pinched Sam in the ass as they headed into the house, causing the man to jump and cry out in surprise. Dean snickered and pushed Sam over the threshold.

Sam and Dean sat together on the couch; the younger man leaned over and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder and smiled when the hunter pulled him close.

“Wanna talk about these?” Dean was lightly following the pattern of swirls and spirals on Sam’s forearm with his fingertips. – Before they had left the lake, the younger man had insisted that he was okay, had actually said that he _wanted_ to be touched, that he wanted to _feel_ Dean. – This time when the pads of his fingers slid over the Marks, he knew there was definitely something there that he was feeling.

“There’s nothing much to say about them. I always knew it would happen someday. My father felt today was the day apparently. Sorta came as a surprise actually.” Sam looked down to where Dean’s thumb was caressing him. “You feel it.”

Dean’s gaze fell from Sam’s face to where his fingers smoothed over the Marked skin. “Yeah. It’s real subtle, almost like a static charge.”

“When…if we…well, it’d feel stronger because you’d be my, um, life mate.” Sam was hesitant speaking the words. He still didn’t know what Dean’s decision on the union was. Nothing had really been said about it since that morning.

“Huh.” Life mate… Dean was going to have to make that decision soon. He looked out the bay window, but instead of the trees outside, he saw the reflection of himself and Sam sitting together on the couch. He stared at it for a while, mind trying to come to terms with seeing _them_ and what their future together would mean for himself.

Sam sensed Dean’s mood changing; it was laced with uncertainty and indecision, but he also felt the feelings the man had for him and they gave him a sense of security. He tucked himself into the hunter’s side then, suddenly feeling tired. “Listen, the whole ritual thing, it took a lot out of me. I think I just wanna close my eyes for a while.”

“Whatever you need, Sam. I’m not going anywhere. Get some rest until Bobby gets here with the food. There’s plenty of time to talk later.”

Bobby entered the room almost twenty minutes later, two beers tucked under his arm and two bowls of macaroni and cheese with sliced hot dogs mixed in (just the way he knew Dean liked it) in his hands. “Thought you could both use a drink after today,” he said as he set everything down on the coffee table.

The men untangled themselves from one another and sat up, scooting forward to the edge of the couch to eat. Dean tugged the table closer and his face lit up when he looked down at his dish. “Hot dogs!”

Sam perked up a little when he looked over at Dean and saw the man’s expression. “Dude, you’re like a little kid.”

“Get used to it,” Bobby chuckled. “The only thing he’s grown up about is huntin’. And even that I have my doubts about sometimes.”

“Hey! Wounded man here. Why’s everyone gotta gang up on me? I like it with hot dogs. What’s wrong with that?” Dean picked up his beer and took a sip before digging into his meal with enthusiasm.

Bobby stood in the doorway and watched them for a moment, enjoying the ‘normalcy’ of the scene playing out in front of him. He hoped Dean could make this work out; the man deserved a little something special in his life. Finally, he spoke up; real life wasn’t going to sit on hold unfortunately. “Dean, d’you mind if I borrow your computer? I got some things I wanna look up before it gets too late. Rufus has a few ideas about what’s going on over in Wisconsin, but I have some theories of my own that I’d like to check out.”

Through a mouthful of mac ‘n cheese, Dean told him to help himself and then stuffed another forkful of food into his mouth. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he started eating.

Sam made it about halfway through his dinner before he pushed it aside. He just didn’t have much of an appetite tonight. His trip home today hadn’t been what he’d consider great. He’d spent a good portion of the time begging and pleading with his father, trying to get the man to undo the gifting. Sam told him that he understood his punishment, but that Dean had done nothing to deserve that kind of burden. His father wouldn’t budge. Instead he reprimanded Sam for his irresponsibility to their people and then he had shocked his son by telling him he would be going through the Rites. Sam could make no sense out of it. The only thing he could think of was that it had something to do with being gifted to Dean.

“Sam?”

Sam felt Dean nudge him in the shoulder and looked over at the man. “Huh?” His mind had drifted off and he hadn’t noticed Dean trying to get his attention.

“You were off in outer space there. Y’okay?”

“Rough day. Got a lot on my mind.”

“Well, why don’t you go ahead and get settled down for the night. I’ll get this stuff cleaned up.” Dean pushed the table back into place and gathered their dishes and the two bottles from the table. “I’ll be in in a little while.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sam nodded and got up, quietly heading off to the bedroom, feet nearly dragging on the floor as he went.

~ * ~

Dean spent five minutes washing up their bowls and then joined Bobby at the kitchen table with another beer. He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly and stretched, kicking his long legs out in front of him.

“Everything alright with you two?” Bobby asked, peering up over the lid of the laptop. He had noticed a very withdrawn looking Sam walking out of the living room just before Dean came in with their dirty dishes.

“I don’t know. He says he’s tired, but I think there’s something else goin’ on.”

“You think something happened while he was back visitin’ his folks?”

Dean picked at the label on his bottle. “Could be. But, really, I think it’s me. He’s nervous about me, what I’m gonna do about this ‘union’ thing.”

“Well?”

“I already told you I’m not gonna let him die. And there’s only one way to keep that from happenin’.” Dean took another sip of his beer. “I just gotta get there mentally, you know, with what’s gonna happen to me.”

“You ain’t got much time to think on it.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. You got any more useful information?”

Bobby gave Dean a hard look for that comment, but it softened almost instantly. “Sorry.” He shook his head. “But I think you ought to at least let Sam know what’s on your mind. The kid’s probably scared out of his mind thinkin’ he’s only got a couple of weeks left to live.”

“I’m workin’ on it, Bobby.”

~ * ~

Early the next morning, they said their goodbyes to Bobby. The older hunter hugged Dean as tightly as he dared, not wanting to aggravate his healing injuries. While embracing the man, he whispered, “I know you’re scared, son, but like I said last night, talk to him. And, remember, I’m always around if you need me.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean smiled faintly as he stepped back from the man.

Bobby moved over to Sam then. “You take care, Sam. And I apologize in advance for anything Dean does. I may have helped raise him, but you can’t blame me for everything.” He smirked before hugging the young man. “You help him get through this, you hear?” When he pulled away, Sam nodded.

“I will. And thank you for everything.”

“My pleasure.”

As the man got into his car, Dean moved to Sam and wrapped his arm around the other man’s waist, pulling him close to his side. They watched the old Chevelle roll down the driveway and disappear around the bend.

“So what’d he say to you?” Dean asked knowingly.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” The hunter smiled.

“It’s a secret.” Sam smirked and then laughed. He turned to run, but Dean caught him by his shirt and pulled him back in for a kiss. When they broke apart, Sam looked the older man in the eye. “He cares a lot about you, you know.”

Dean was quiet for a minute, and then, “Yeah, he’s a good guy.” He glanced back down the driveway already missing his surrogate father. Pushing down the sudden longing, Dean reached over and tugged Sam forward by his belt loops. “C’mon. It’s still early. I think I want to go back to bed.” Dean waggled an eyebrow playfully and rocked up on the balls of his feet to plant another quick kiss to Sam’s lips.

They didn’t have to have sex…yet, but there were plenty of other things they could do to keep occupied and it seemed like they both needed it, needed to feel that closeness once more.

~ * ~

A week and a day had gone by and Dean was still avoiding the ‘discussion’. Sure, they messed around in bed; sure Dean would have loved to have hot, crazy monkey sex with Sam, but he didn’t. He just wasn’t ready to take that leap. Not yet.

He was currently out in the front yard tinkering on the Impala. As their deadline drew nearer, Dean found himself spending more and more time with the car rather than Sam. He knew he was only putting off the inevitable, but well…

The anxiety about changing into something that wasn’t human was creeping up on Dean, like some kind of choking vine whose tendrils were digging under his skin and wrapping tightly around his heart. He’d never admit it, but once or twice he found himself teetering on the edge of a panic attack; he hadn’t had one of those since he was a kid and had found himself cornered by a black dog.

He’d seen Sam out of the corner of his eye watching him as the days passed, watching as he walled himself off. And today was no different. Dean was leaning over the engine, checking the air filter (like he hadn’t already done that at least a dozen times in the last week) when he was startled by the sound of Sam’s voice behind him. He jumped and hit his head on the open hood of the car.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed as he whirled on the man, hand up behind his head, rubbing at the knot that was beginning to form. “Jesus, Sam, make some goddamn noise or something next time!” His eyes fell to the beer Sam was holding; the condensation was rolling down its sides and wetting his fingers. The man was just bringing him a drink. “Shit. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“Dean-”

“I’m fine,” Dean said as he dropped his hand from the back of his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“We need to talk.” Sam held the beer out and Dean snatched it from him, taking a long draught from it; the bottle was nearly empty when he finished.

Dean knew exactly what Sam felt they needed to talk about. He had to give the younger man credit; he’d been more than patient with him over the last week. “There’s still time. What, something like two weeks, give or take a couple of days?”

“That’s not-” They _needed_ to talk before Sam became too sick. In the last forty-eight hours or so, he was starting to feel the first symptoms of his failing health. Even now, he felt dizzy and had to force himself to stay focused on the man in front of him; it was like he had a permanent buzz going on.

“Sam, I can’t. Not now.” The words were almost pleading.

Sam only nodded, resigned to the fact that Dean wasn’t ready to have this discussion, and turned around leaving the man to his car. He hoped Dean would decide to talk before it was too late.


	10. Chapter 10

 

Several more days had slipped by and Sam had yet to get Dean to talk; they hardly spoke at all anymore…and it hurt watching the hunter distance himself like he was. The man was the definition of stubborn and was avoiding Sam like the proverbial plague, pulling further away with every passing day; he’d even begun to dip into the bottle of whiskey that the younger man knew he kept hidden in the back of the cabinet. Dean may have been present and accounted for physically, but his mind was elsewhere – lately, being hidden beneath the hazy veil of alcohol – and because of that the hunter was quite unaware of what was going on with Sam.

They rarely saw each other anymore, at least during the daylight hours anyway. (Somehow they still found themselves in bed together at night, even if they ended up on opposite sides of the mattress rather than in each other’s arms.) Sam didn’t want the hunter to feel pressured into completing this union. No, Dean had to come to him because he _wanted_ this, not because he felt he _had_ to. For this reason, Sam kept his growing sickness under wraps. He’d been doing a pretty decent job at it, too…until today.

~ * ~

Before today, it had only been a little light-headedness here and there; nausea would sometimes accompany the feeling. Those things were relatively easy to hide. Even the decrease in appetite, which hadn’t let up since the night he came back from being Marked, hadn’t been difficult to keep hidden. – Dean didn’t spend enough time with Sam to know what he was and wasn’t eating. – And just recently, Sam had had some trouble sleeping, but that was quickly remedied with the sleeping pills he’d found in the medicine cabinet. All in all, most of his symptoms hadn’t been too bad; he could deal with them. Sam would do what he had to while he waited for Dean. In his heart, he knew the man wouldn’t let him die.

He’d overslept this morning – _maybe that third pill last night hadn’t been such a good idea_ – but Sam had needed the sleep so he didn’t much care. If today was anything like the last couple of weeks, he wasn’t likely to make any progress with the hunter; there was no reason to be up when the sun rose up over the horizon.

As was usual lately, the bed beside him was cold and empty. (Dean was an early riser and these days he didn’t bother waking Sam when he got up.) Sam realized right away what had woken him up. Dean was in the shower; the rushing sound of the water had stirred Sam from his sleep.

By now, Sam was used to the persistent, unwelcome company of a nagging headache, but when he woke up this morning, it had felt as if someone had driven an ice pick through his skull just above his left eye. He groaned and rolled over, eyes clenched tightly shut and head held between his hands; he tried to keep the moan that escaped from his lips quiet. It was going to be a long day if this was just the start.

Sam finally forced himself out of bed after another half hour or so, squinting at the blaringly bright rays of morning sunshine peeking through the curtains. He slipped into a soft pair of flannel pajama bottoms and meandered out to the kitchen where he found Dean making coffee.

“There’s plenty of coffee if you want some,” Dean offered, glancing over his shoulder at Sam.

Even under the excruciating weight of his headache, Sam saw something in the man’s eyes. – The familiar, vibrant green that he loved so much had dulled recently, making Sam long for their lost vitality. – It was as if Dean sensed that he was unwell.

“You alright?”

“Just a headache. It’ll go away,” Sam mumbled as he retrieved a mug from the cabinet and worked on pouring himself a cup of the hot beverage without spilling it. He didn’t notice how much his hands were shaking from the pain until now.

“Looks like a little more than that,” the hunter pressed from where he stood leaning against the table sipping his coffee.

Sam heard Dean walk off then, heading back towards the rear of the house. Two minutes later, the man slapped three white pills down on the counter beside his coffee mug.

“Take those. They can fix just about anything.”

The younger man stared down at the tablets. Dean still cared; that’s what he saw when he looked at them. And how his heart ached, missing what they had once had.

The flood gates opened then and he sagged to the floor, folding his arms around himself; Sam couldn’t help it. The pain, the loneliness…the despair…they’d all finally come to a head and he felt himself breaking. “Dean.” The name came out on a sob.

He heard Dean moving and then the man was sliding down to the floor beside to him, taking him into his arms. “Shit, Sam.” The hunter tightened his embrace. A tender kiss was pressed to the crown of his head; it was the first _touch_ from the man in days.

Sam turned into Dean, burrowed his face into the man’s shirt, and wrapped his arms around the hunter. “I can’t do this…not anymore. If you don’t want me, put me out of my misery, please. But Dean, I can’t…” His voice cracked as he pleaded. The younger man knew Dean’s shirt was getting soaked in his tears, but he couldn’t help it. He _needed_ Dean back.

Guilt swept through Dean like a raging tsunami. He wasn’t blind; he’d seen Sam falling apart at the seams for some time now…and he’d ignored him as he wallowed in his own self-pity, fear, anger…whatever suited his need at that particular moment. Dean should have been there for Sam, should have goddamned talked to him like Bobby had told him to do. He’d pushed this too far.

Dean rubbed his hand up and down Sam’s arm trying to soothe him, tears pricking at his own eyes. _Sam was asking him to kill him. What had he done?_ “Don’t talk like that, Sam. I know I’ve been a selfish bastard. But, god, don’t say that. I…I love you. And I can’t listen to you say something like that. Fuck, Sam. Don’t do this. I’m sorry.” Dean could feel Sam’s body trembling in his arms. Whether it was from the sobs wracking through the younger man or something more, Dean couldn’t be sure. He knew Sam was sick, probably sicker than he’d let on. “Hey, let’s just get you back to bed. I’ll make you some of Bobby’s special tea. It tastes like shit, but it usually does the trick.” He smiled down into Sam’s hair and pressed another kiss to his head before shifting to pull the man up from the floor. “C’mon, up you go.”

“Bathtub,” Sam whispered. “I need to be in the water.” Instinctively, he felt himself wanting to shift back into his natural form. It was the pain. He would be able cope with it better then and maybe it would help him heal a little, though he seriously doubted it. This was more than something he could heal on his own.

“Water it is then.”

Sam let himself be hauled up from the floor. He leaned into the security of Dean’s embrace as he was led down the hall to the bathroom where the man helped maneuver him down to sit on the closed toilet.

Dean plugged the tub and turned the faucet on. He held his fingers under the tap to make sure the water temperature was comfortable. Once he was sure it was, he turned his attention back to Sam.

“You need help?” His eyes fell to Sam’s pajama pants.

“I think I got it.” Sam gave a small smile, but it couldn’t mask the strain on his face.

Dean stood there unsure about whether he should stay or go back to the kitchen to start the tea. (Actually, he wasn’t sure the drink would help anyway. What was going on with Sam was more than any kind of medicine, homeopathic or otherwise, could fix.) But he wasn’t sure if he had it in him to remain in the room when Sam shifted. He had yet to see the change actually occur and the thought of it alone had a flock of butterflies fluttering in his stomach. _Was that what a bunch of butterflies was called, a flock?_ It was a stupid thought, but he couldn’t control everywhere his brain went.

“Alright.” His eyes lingered on Sam a moment longer, and then Dean began to back out of the room. “Just give me a few minutes in the kitchen and I’ll be back. Hang tight, okay?”

Sam nodded. The headache was really starting to take its toll on him. Numbness was spreading out over his forehead and a deep-seated chill was forming behind his eyes. Nausea was sneaking up on him and he attempted to swallow back the bile he felt rising in his throat. _This is the headache from Hell_ , he thought as he rubbed his hands over his face and tried to breathe through his torment.

He was able to get his pants off before it happened. A gut-wrenching pain shot through his abdomen; it felt like a damn knife being thrust into him – not that he actually knew what that felt like – it caused him to cry out and fall to his knees on the floor, arms clenched around his middle. _Why was this suddenly getting so bad?_

Sam took a deep breath and slowly pushed himself up from the floor. If he could make it to the water… Then the room tilted; he slapped a hand out against the wall to brace himself. No more than a heartbeat later, his nausea kicked in tenfold and another ripping pain tore through him. He barely managed to get to his knees and flip the toilet lid up before he was throwing up. He hadn’t eaten much of anything recently so there wasn’t much to come up. But his spasming gut didn’t care. What little there was in his stomach was immediately expelled and, once that was gone, he was given a moment of reprieve; that lasted for all of ten seconds before he was vomiting once again. Sam coughed and continued heaving. He felt something more come up and he spat into toilet bowl. What he saw was dark crimson…blood. “Oh, god, I think I’m gonna die," he groaned out as he leaned over, forehead resting on the cool porcelain of the toilet.

Dean rushed into the room just in time to see Sam drop his head down, shoulders rising and falling sharply as the younger man was trying to catch his breath. “Sam?” He grabbed a clean washcloth from the shelf and wet it, pulling Sam up a second later so he could wipe his face off. It was then that he noticed the dribble of blood on the man’s chin. “Shit, Sam. When did that start?” _How many times had he been away when this had happened?_

Sam took a moment and then shakily reached up to flush the toilet, washing the evidence of his sickness away. “Just now.”

Dean closed the lid to the toilet and hoisted Sam up so he could sit down. Once he was sure the man wasn’t going to topple over, he reached over and turned the water in the tub off before it overflowed onto the floor. Dean went to the sink after and filled a cup with water; he put it to Sam’s lips. “Here, drink some of this.”

The hunter wrapped a towel over Sam's shoulders and gave the man several minutes to gather himself before leading him to the bedroom where he could sit down comfortably on the bed. (Deep down in the pit of his stomach, Dean knew where this was going…and a bathtub wasn’t going to be of any help.) He silently berated himself because he knew Sam had been trying to talk to him for days now and he had only shut the man out.

“How long’ve you been like this?”

“It started to get worse last week…but never this bad.” Sam stared down at his shaking hands. He curled his fingers in on themselves and closed his eyes.

 _Shit._ “You’re not gonna get better, not until…”

Sam shook his head ‘no’. He finally looked up at Dean, glassy eyes blinking slowly at the man. No matter how hard he tried, the hunter wouldn’t fully come into focus. But he didn’t need to see when he could _feel._

Dean reached up and rubbed at the nape of his neck as he paced the room. He _knew_ there were still eight more days left until the full moon; he’d been watching the calendar. For some reason, he thought he’d have the full twenty or twenty-one days, whatever it had been when this whole thing started. He thought Sam would be okay until the last day, so as long as he did what he needed to by then, he’d be fine; Sam would be fine. But clearly that wasn’t the case.

“It’s gonna keep getting worse,” Sam said as he sat there shivering under the towel.

“If I had known… God, Sam, I... Dammit, I should have listened to you.” Dean tugged his overshirt off and tossed it to the floor at the foot of the bed. “I’ve just been-”

“It’s okay, Dean. If you’ve decided you don’t want-”

“Sam, don’t. It’s not that. Don’t even think I don’t want you. It’s me. This whole thing… I…God, it’s not like this is something I’ve done before. I’m a little freaked out by it, okay?” He toed his work boots off and his socks followed. “But we’re gonna do this right now. I don’t want you getting sicker than you already are.” His t-shirt fell to the floor then, covering his shoes and socks. He hesitated for a brief moment before starting on his pants, and then he thought about Sam and began to unfasten them.

“Dean,” Sam forced himself to stand up from the bed. He took unsteady steps towards Dean who was by the bureau stripping out of his jeans and boxer briefs. “I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready…if you’re not sure about it.”

Dean turned around and his face fell as he took in Sam’s pale features, the dark circles under his eyes; his face had grown gaunt, too thin. He couldn’t remember the last time he really looked at the man. “Oh, Sam.” The words came out soft and quiet…sad almost. He wet his lips and rolled his bottom lip in to chew on as he reached up and tucked a wisp of hair behind Sam’s ear. “C’mere.” He pulled the younger man in for a hug and felt Sam tremble in his arms. Dean felt the weight of Sam’s head rest on his shoulder and heard a slight wheeze as the younger man breathed so close to his ear. “C’mon, you need to sit down.”

The small nod of Sam’s head on his shoulder was enough and Dean released Sam from his embrace. “Take it easy,” he said as he helped the man back over to the bed. “You shouldn’t have gotten up. You’re gonna need some of that energy if we’re gonna do this.” Dean smirked, but it didn’t hold. He helped Sam lie down and pulled the blankets over him. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be right back. (He needed to lock the front door. After his shower, he’d been in and out of the house several times, packing up the Impala with plans on spending the day down at the shop working on the GTO.) _God, the things that could have happened if he’d left earlier…_ “We’ll get this taken care of. No more waiting. Okay?”

Another quiet nod. “Okay.”

~ * ~

Dean could really kick himself. He’d known all along that he’d have to do this, that he _would_ do this. Why he didn’t just do it in the beginning… Oh, wait, it’s because he was too chicken shit to change into the very thing that Sam was; he was too scared to pop a fucking tail when he got wet.

“Fuck!” Dean grumbled as he flipped the deadbolt on the front door. He peeked out the curtain into the front yard, saw the Impala sitting there. Al was expecting him, but the man would get over it.

Sam was on his stomach and looked like he was sleeping when Dean returned to the bedroom. He stepped lightly as he crossed the room, not wanting to disturb him. He pulled open the nightstand drawer and moved some things around until he found the lube. He decided to skip on the condoms. If they were going to be life partners, or life mates – whatever Sam had called it – there was no reason to use them. And he was sure Sam couldn’t get pregnant. _He hoped not anyway._ It wasn’t like it was ever something that was brought up. But Bobby had mentioned there were female Limnades. That made Dean feel a little safer.

“Hey, Sam.” Dean slid into bed beside the man. “Sammy.” He lifted a brow as the nickname fell from his mouth; he had no idea where that had come from. The hunter shook Sam and the man groaned. “Time to wake up. I’m gonna fix this and once you’re better, we’ll have the wild sex we both know we should be having.”

That got the hint of a smile from Sam. And then he mumbled something. Dean couldn’t quite catch the words. “What was that?” The hunter leaned down and put his ear to Sam’s mouth.

“It’s Sam.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in a frown. “Oh,” he said when it came to him. “Sure, yeah. – Now, are you gonna get on your back or what? I don’t think you’ve got it in you to hold yourself up and your hands and knees for this.”

With a bit of Dean’s help, Sam rolled over.

“This isn’t exactly how I envisioned our first time. If you wanna sleep through it, I won’t take it personally.” Dean leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to Sam’s lips. He was all set to pull away when he felt Sam’s hand come up and hold him there. The man’s mouth opened beneath his and suddenly Sam’s tongue was licking its way into it. Dean certainly wasn’t going to turn him away.

Even in Sam’s state, Dean could feel the man’s length hardening underneath him and Dean knew it didn’t take himself much to get going. He rocked down into Sam as their tongues tangled together; his fingers tracked up Sam’s sides feeling the way too prominent ridges of his ribs. (The first thing he was going to do when Sam was feeling up to it was make the man eat.) He finally settled, one hand pressed into the bed next to Sam’s head, the other wrapped around under his jaw, thumb tracing the man’s chin. He smiled into the kiss when he felt Sam’s free hand grip his ass and pull him down.

They continued to softly roll against one another until Dean felt he was too close. He pulled back and sat up, straddling Sam; their cocks rested against one another and Dean had to resist reaching down to take them both in hand and stroke them to completion. It would only take a minute; he was sure. It seemed like it had been forever since they’d been together like this.

As his eyes trailed up Sam’s body from their groins, they traced the intricate swirls of Sam’s Marks; they were dark, almost a deep blue-green on his tanned skin. He could only guess as to what it took to put them there; they had never spoken of it since Sam had come back. His gaze followed up the hard lines of Sam’s pectorals, up over the length of his neck, over his jaw and kiss-swollen lips. Dean’s eyes finally settled on Sam’s jewel-toned hazels; they were blown wide and heavy-lidded.

“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Dean murmured in wonder to Sam as his gaze roamed over the gorgeous man stretched out below him.

Finally, Dean shifted back and found the bottle of lube he had put on the bed earlier. He opened it, squeezed some out onto his hand, and then closed the bottle, setting it aside as he warmed the slippery substance between his fingers. “You ever done this before?”

“Never with a human, and not in this form. ‘S’different.”

That caused an eyebrow to lift. _Okay._ Dean had never thought about having sex in fish form. And right now? His mind couldn’t go there. That was just…never mind.

He reached down and stroked Sam’s long length, eliciting a quiet moan from the man as he allowed his lubed fingers to circle the pink furl of muscle between Sam’s ass cheeks. “I’ll take it easy then. But unfortunately, I think we need to get a move on. I’m not gonna let you get any sicker than you already are.” He pressed a finger in gently then. Dean groaned right along with Sam when he felt the man’s body give and then clench tightly around the digit. He gave the younger man a moment to get used to the feeling, his muscles relaxing, before he began a slow slip/slide in and out.

“Shit, you’re tight. Gonna feel good when I get in there. Just gotta make sure you’re ready.” Dean kept his eyes on Sam, watching, making sure the man was okay with everything that was happening.

Sam had never felt this before and it was intense; it was so different and, yet, so much the same as sex in his piscine form. He could feel his body’s need for what Dean was giving him, its yearning to become one with its intended. Sam rocked down into the man’s thrusting finger, wanting… _needing_ …more.

And Dean sensed Sam’s need. He leaned down and licked a wet line up Sam’s swollen shaft as he slipped another finger in beside the first. The younger man’s movements stuttered as he adjusted to the stretch and burn, but soon they picked up again, his hips rocking up and down into the touch.

“Dean,” a quiet whisper fell from Sam’s lips; it was lost on a sharp intake of breath as Dean’s fingers slipped over the man’s prostate, causing him to arch off the bed.

The hunter licked and nipped the smooth flesh of Sam’s abdomen, dipping his tongue into the man’s naval as he continued to work him open. And then his eyes fell to the Marks on Sam’s torso again. Dean began to trace them with his tongue, the long twisting swirls and spirals, feeling that familiar current of power they held within them as he did. He knew one day, he’d have to spend time following each and every one of those gorgeous lines all over the man’s body. Just the thought alone had Dean pushing a third finger into Sam’s. He smiled into Sam’s flesh when he felt the man’s hands clutch down onto his shoulders.

It may have just been Sam’s imagination, but he thought he could feel his body already mending its hurts; he didn’t feel as sick as he did earlier either. He held onto Dean tightly as a tremble coursed through his body in anticipation of the hunter making love to him; he knew it was going to feel good. Once mated, they would have this always.

Sam’s mind suddenly exploded with stars as Dean’s fingers found that spot again and he cried out as his body twisted. “Do it. Please, Dean. Take me. Make me yours forever. Please…”

 _Forever_. The word reverberated in Dean’s skull. Sam was his, _gifted_ to him by the demigod, Orestes. He growled and pulled his fingers free. He watched as Sam’s hole fluttered, looking for more, and his dick twitched, ready to sink into the tight heat.

Dean found the lube once more and quickly slicked his cock up. _This is it_ , he thought to himself. _No turning back._ Dean was as ready as he’d ever be. He sat up on his knees and got into position, pulling Sam’s legs up until the man’s ankles rested on his shoulders. He looked down at the man he _loved_. Sam’s eyes blinked slowly in a haze of lust. “Sam…”

“Yours, Dean.” A small smile shone on his face.

Gripping his rock-hard cock, Dean lined up with Sam’s slick entrance and pressed forward with care. He watched the head of his length as it was slowly swallowed up, Sam’s body taking it in hungrily. Dean growled as he held himself back, wanting to just push completely in, claim Sam as his own. He slid his hands down Sam’s legs and gripped the backs of the man’s thighs; his fingers dug into the soft flesh so deeply that he knew there would be bruises in the morning.

As Dean entered Sam, the younger man’s fingers clenched the cool sheets below him and he closed his eyes tightly; his lips fell open in a silent gasp. The strange mixture of burn, pleasure, and fullness was almost too much…but he wanted more. “Dean… Fuck…” He threw his head back down in the pillow and pressed his shoulders into the mattress, lifting his hips up and driving Dean farther into him. The man groaned above him and Sam reached up to pull Dean down for a kiss, nearly folding his own body in half. The action caused Dean to slip in to the hilt, balls resting up against Sam’s ass.

The kiss smothered their lusting moans. Both men shuddered as their union was completed. Dean knew this was it; he would forever be a changed man. But as he found himself seated deep within his lover…his _life mate_ …he found himself suddenly very much okay with that. The thought had him pulling almost completely out and thrusting forward again. He smiled, feeling Sam writhe below him, and broke their kiss. He let Sam’s legs fall to wrap around his waist, knowing the man couldn’t be comfortable folded up like a pretzel, and then leaned forward again, nuzzling into Sam’s neck.

“I love you, Sam.” Dean dragged his lips over the sensitive skin and began to place his own marks on the man.

Sam’s hands slid down the scarred skin of Dean’s back until they reached the swell of the hunter’s ass. He could feel the muscles expanding and contracting under his fingers with every pistoning movement of the man’s hips. As Dean’s words reached his ears, he rolled his head back to give the man more access. “I love you so much. You’re my heart…my soul. – God, fuck. Feels so good.” He rocked up, meeting Dean thrust for thrust. When the man slid over his sensitive bundle of nerves, Sam cried out. His cock was pressed between their bodies; the friction from their movement was driving him insane. “Harder, please,” he begged.

Dean lapped over the last reddened bruise he had sucked onto Sam’s skin before dragging his lips up and over the man’s jaw, pressing another kiss to his lips. When he heard Sam’s request, he stilled and looked down at him. Sam was a wreck under him; eyes so dark, they were almost black; lips slick with their mixed saliva; his breath came in pants. Dean could feel the younger man’s fingers pressing even deeper into his flesh, telling him how much he wanted this.

Sam looked up at Dean with a lazy smile on his face. “What about ‘harder’ said ‘stop’?” The smile turned into a smirk.

“Nothing. I just want to remember this, the way you look.” Dean shifted, pulled back and pushed in again and grinned as he watched his lover. “So beautiful, Sam.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Sam teased. “Now move…please,” he very nearly whined, pressing his heels into Dean’s backside, helping to express how much he wanted this.

“You’re a toppy bottom. I think I like that,” Dean said, grinning as he sat up and lifted Sam’s hips higher around his waist, allowing himself to slide deeper into the man’s tight channel. “If you were feeling better, I’d make you ride me. D’you know how hot you’d be, riding me? But that’s just something to look forward to for next time.” He began moving again with a slow and steady rhythm, building up the pace with every in-and-out movement. Soon Dean had Sam crying out below him as the room began to fill with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, their low moans filling up the gaps in between.

Dean bit into his lip, growling as he pumped into his lover. He eyed Sam’s red and weeping cock and reached down to begin stroking it. “Come for me, Sam.” Dean kept up with the speed of his movements; he knew Sam wouldn’t last long like this. A moment later, he felt the fluttering of muscles around his cock. The other man’s body began to tense up and then suddenly Sam cried out Dean’s name as his orgasm surged through him.

“Dean!” Sam screamed out. He had tried to hold back, but his body wouldn’t listen; Dean was too much and it had a mind of its own. He felt his cum pulse over his belly and chest and grit his teeth as his body shuddered and trembled. Above him, Dean’s thrusts faltered. Nothing coherent could be heard from the man’s mouth as his body arched over Sam, chest heaving, eyes closed tight; his face looked almost pained as his climax hit with its full intensity. Sam could feel the warm heat of Dean’s release filling him and he wished it would never end.

When Dean opened his eyes again, he saw the look of adoration on Sam’s face. He leaned down on shaky arms and allowed himself to steal another kiss from the man. It began soft and tender, but mounted into something more as their tongues met and began a passionate dance with one another. Dean groaned into the kiss as he felt his now flaccid cock slip from Sam’s heat. He broke away from the younger man and smiled down at him, his face worry free.

“I see you’re feeling a lot better.”

“With sex like that, I think anything’s possible.” Sam chuckled. “But yeah, I’m much better.” He watched as Dean rolled from him and reached down to the floor for his discarded shirt. The man began to wipe him down. “How about you?” he asked while the hunter carefully cleaned the cooling mess from his stomach.

Dean knew what Sam was asking. He took a deep breath as he tossed the t-shirt to the floor again. “I think I’m okay. It’s not really gonna hit me until the first time it happens, you know?” He lay down on the bed and pulled Sam against him. “I don’t usually do the sharing-and-caring thing, but I’ll admit I’m a little scared. I mean, me with a tail?” Dean pressed his face down into Sam’s shoulder and allowed himself to breathe deeply, trying to keep himself calm. “I think I want you there the first time,” he said after a while.

Sam curled a finger and tucked it under Dean’s chin to make the older man look at him. “Whatever you need, Dean.” He kissed Dean chastely and then pulled away so he could look into the man’s apprehensive green eyes. “I don’t want to sound insensitive or like I’m trying to rush you, but you’re gonna need to do it soon. Our kind, well, we need to shift into our natural form on a regular basis or we begin to grow weak.” Sam knew there was the potential problem of Dean becoming worse than he had over the last couple of weeks, his mind fighting with what needed to happen. Now that the change was done, the man would really have to face his fears; there was no longer an out.

Dean lay there quietly, letting his fingers trace the lines of Sam’s Marks once more as he let the man’s words sink in. Sam had been right; he could feel the low, pulsing thrum of energy even more now. “Yeah, okay. In the morning, we’ll do it then.” He placed a kiss to Sam’s chest and grinned. “Right now, I’m shot, I mean, I did just do all the work, you know.”

Sam barked out a laugh. “Dude, go to sleep before I find a bucket of water and dump it on you right now.”

“Go for it, Sharkboy.” Dean snickered as Sam swatted him in the shoulder. And then he yawned. He hoped he could fall asleep knowing what the morning was going to bring.

The men shifted and until they were comfortable, tangled in each other’s limbs. Within minutes, both were asleep.

~ * ~

Dean slept and he slept well. During the night, his body had gone through changes at the cellular level that he wasn’t in the least bit aware of. By the time he awoke, he may have resembled the human he once was, but he was now far from it.

He stretched and then opened his eyes when he felt the bed was empty beside him. He sensed that Sam was in a good mood before he smelled the wonderful aroma of coffee permeating the air.

Suddenly he sat up, sheets falling from him and pooling at his waist. “Sam!”

Sam heard Dean when the man yelled his name and rushed down the hallway to the bedroom. When he entered the room, he was aware of Dean’s panic. “What? Are you okay? Dean?” He sat down on the bed beside his life mate.

“I can _feel_ you. Holy shit. Is that normal? I mean, I know you always said you _felt_ things, but I thought you just, you know, were just good at reading people.”

“I guess maybe I should have thought to tell you about that. Sorry, I’m just so used to it that I don’t think about others, _humans_ , not being able to do it.” Sam slipped his hand over Dean’s thigh, feeling the thick muscle under the sheets. “You’re a sensitive now; you can _feel_ and _sense_ other’s vibes and emotions. All of our people can. And since you’re one of us now…”

“That’s just… Wow. Really?” Dean didn’t know how to respond to that. His first thought was that this trait could be useful on a hunt, and then, “Hey, can I sense supernatural things, I mean, not _us_ , but things like spirits?”

Sam arched his brow. Of course Dean would think like that. He was a hunter. “Um, I don’t know. I’ve never tried it. – Hey, you want some coffee? I’ve got a fresh pot made.”

Dean was thinking of all the possibilities of his new _super power_. He thought it was pretty awesome. It took him a second to respond to Sam. “Coffee? Oh, yeah. Just give me a second to get some clothes on.”

The younger man got up and gave Dean a quick kiss. “Coffee, then shower. Remember? So don’t you dare put anything more than boxers on. You’re not getting out of it.” And then he disappeared back towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, shower,” Dean mumbled. _How could he forget that?_

He got up and looked at the boxers in the pile of clothes by the bureau. His lips twitched up into a smirk. _Don’t need those if I’m gonna be in the shower soon._ A quick leak and then coffee to wake up. He’d get through today. And it was good to have Sam back after so long. Dean was looking forward to having a lot of sex in the near future, make up for the last couple of weeks. He was sure Sam wouldn’t be opposed to it.

Dean closed the bathroom door behind him and took care of business. When he was done, he went to the sink and turned on a rush of cold water. He cupped his hands under the faucet and threw it up over his face. And then it hit him. _Fuck!_

“Sam!”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the last of it. I hope you enjoy :)

 

“Sam!”

Sam rolled his eyes with a smirk and shook his head as he set his mug down on the table. This morning was going to get interesting; he wondered what had set the hunter off this time. But as he focused his mind on the man, Sam sensed real and mounting panic from Dean and got up quickly from where he was sitting at the kitchen table. Sam was halfway down the hall when he heard the water running through the bathroom door. “Aw, crap! Dean… Shit, hang on.” He ran down the short corridor.

Wide, green eyes that were full of panic were what he met when he opened the door. “Dean, fuck. What the hell’d you do?” Sam eyed the water running in the sink behind the man and then his eyes fell down to Dean’s legs. He’d gotten there quickly, but the shift had already started. “Just sit down on the toilet before you fall. Tails aren’t meant to stand on.”

“Goddamn water!” Dean was cursing his stupidity. Apparently old habits die hard. _All he’d wanted to do to wash his face._ He allowed Sam to manhandle him over to the toilet as he felt the first tingles coursing through his shifting body. He couldn’t help but stare down at his legs as they began to change.

First the pale skin of his thighs and legs darkened in color and then scales began to erupt from his flesh. As the scales formed, his legs began to seal together starting at his waist. The shift flowed down his thighs, down his calves, and then his feet disappeared in the gossamer folds of a tailfin. “Fuck.” The word came out more in bewilderment than fear.

Dean wiggled his tail and watched in amazement as the shimmering scales caught in the bright light cast down from the fixture above the sink. After a moment, he let his hands fall to his new appendage, shaky fingers drifting over the smooth scales. “Oh my god…I’m a fish.” His voice was full of awe and utter disbelief.

Sam coughed back a laugh as he got up from where he was squatting in front of Dean and reached over to turn off the offending tap. He had remained quiet, waiting to see how the man would handle his first shift. So far, he seemed to be doing okay. Sam pulled the hand towel from the rack and gave it to Dean. “Here, dry your face off. And make sure you get your hair, too. It takes a little longer for your body to realize it’s dry, but you’ll be back on your feet in just a couple of minutes.”

Dean took the offered towel, but he didn’t bring it up to his face just yet. “Dude, where’s my, uh…” His gaze fell down to where his dick should be.

Sam snorted then. “It’s there.” He crouched down in front of Dean again, rested his hand on the man’s lap, and then looked up at him. “May I?” Dean nodded slowly. Sam moved his hand forward and, after a little bit of maneuvering, the hunter jumped when Sam found his cock nestled compactly behind a sheath of flesh and scales. “See? It’s still safely in place,” he said with a smile as he stood back up.

“Um, thanks,” Dean said as he blushed, embarrassed more than anything.

“Y’okay?”

The hunter didn’t say anything right away, but then, “I think so. Yeah. It’s weird, but I guess I’ll get used to it after a while.” _Fish. Tail. Tail. Fish._ The words circled around Dean’s brain. But he was telling the truth; the change hadn’t been that bad. It had just caught him off guard. Maybe it was better that way.

“You look good like this. It’s a beautiful tail,” Sam commented staring down at Dean’s tail. “So, you gonna dry off so I can finish my coffee or are we gonna play in the water all day?”

Dean grinned and shook his head before glancing back down at his lower half. If he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t mind staying in this form, if anything, just to get used to it; he felt like a kid with a new bike. But he knew he’d have this for the rest of his life so he nodded. “I’ll dry off.” He brought the towel up and pressed the soft material over his face and then ruffled it through his hair, leaving it standing in short spikes. Five minutes later, he watched the whole process all over again, only this time in reverse. When he was himself once more, he wiggled his toes. “That’s just... God, I don’t even…” Dean had no words for what he’d just experienced.

It was interesting for Sam to see Dean adjusting to his change. Since he was born a Limnade, he never knew any different. He’d also never seen a human become one. Sam had heard of it though, but it had never happened in his lifetime, at least not in this region.

“You did good.” Sam pulled the hunter up from the toilet. He wrapped his hand around the back of Dean’s skull and pressed his lips to the other man’s. Dean opened up for him and Sam smiled into the kiss, ever thankful that this man in front of him had given up so much for him. When he pulled away, Sam was still smiling. “Thank you, Dean.”

The hunter reached up and cupped his hand around the side of Sam’s jaw. He looked into the younger man’s ever-changing hazels; they were filled with love. “We’re okay then? Hell, I’ve been treating you like shit for how long now?”

“It’s not like you were trying to decide what color shirt you were going to wear. Dean, this is life-changing. I totally got it. But, please, don’t ever shut me out like that again. I’m not gonna lie; it hurt…and not just because I was sick. I _missed_ you.”

A flash of guilt passed over Dean’s features. “I’ll do my best. I’m not the easiest person to live with. Just ask Bobby. I can be a serious asshole once in a while.”

“Yeah, you _are_ pretty stubborn.” Sam laughed and pulled Dean into his arms again. “We’re good though. I promise.” He gave Dean a quick kiss on the tip of his nose and grinned when the man grimaced.

“Seriously?” Dean arched an eyebrow at the cutesy gesture of affection.

Suddenly Dean pulled Sam down for another long and hot, breath-taking kiss. At this rate, they were never going to get out of the bathroom. Sam’s cock was at full attention in his pants and with Dean standing there in the nude, you’d have to be a blind man not to see that he was just as hard. Sam groaned as they rocked against each other.

“Dean…” Sam rutted up against the man seeking friction as he pressed his palms against Dean’s chest and slid them down and around until he gripped him at the jut of his hipbones. “Jesus, you’re killing me.”

“Get used to it. If you remember, you started all of this by kissing me while I was sleeping. – Really, did you think you were gonna be able to get away with that? I was sleepin’, not dead.” Dean slipped his fingers under the hem of Sam’s shirt and tugged it up as he spoke.

Sam lifted his arms and allowed Dean to pull the material over his head; he combed his hair back from his face with his fingers. A faint blush rose up his cheeks at the memory of stealing that first kiss from Dean. At the time, he’d known it was a risk, but he hadn’t been able to help it. He gasped as Dean reached up and tweaked his nipples, causing him to arch forward, their cocks bumping into each other; Sam’s eyelids fluttered at the contact.

“I, uh…” He groaned. “I… You were too hard to resist. Have you seen you while you’re sleeping?” Sam was having a difficult time concentrating. Dean was now unbuttoning his jeans. A moment later, the zipper was pulled down and Dean’s fingers tucked under his waistband pulling both the denim and his boxers down his thighs.

“Nah, sorry, can’t say that I have,” Dean teased, eyes darkening as his hand wrapped around the velvet-soft skin of Sam’s thick arousal and began stroking it slowly.

“Well… _Fuck…,”_ Sam rocked into Dean’s tight grip, “You’re adorable.” What Dean was doing to Sam had him unable to speak coherently; his breathing was already growing heavy. He had to throw a hand out to the counter to keep upright.

“Just so you know, I’m glad you did it.” Dean laved up the side of Sam’s neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh before soothing it with his tongue and pressing soft, lingering kisses up to the man’s ear. “I wanna fuck you again…right here, right now.” Dean released Sam and spun him around so he was pressed up against the vanity. “Stay.”

Sam stared at himself in the mirror. His whole body was tense with anticipation as he waited for Dean to return. His pupils were blown wide; he saw that his cheeks were flushed and he also noted that Dean’s marks along his neck from last night were now overlapped with fresh, pink ones from a couple of minutes ago. He smiled.

And then Sam’s eyes dropped down to his swollen cock where it curled up against his stomach, full and heavy. He ached with need and couldn’t stop himself from reaching down and stroking it. Sam rolled his head back on his shoulders and moaned quietly as he did. He couldn’t wait to feel Dean in him again.

When Dean stepped back into the room, he came to a stop just inside the door watching Sam fisting himself, his eyes closed, head tilted back. The hunter couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped from his throat at the sight.

Sam jumped, stopping what he was doing; his eyes opened and he caught sight of Dean in the mirror watching. A mischievous smirk lifted the corners of his lips – the same one that was there the morning he first saw Dean – and he began stroking himself again while continuing to stare at the man over his shoulder in the mirror.

Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched his lover. “Fuck, Sam.” The older man approached Sam from behind and pressed up against the muscled expanse of his back. “That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Dean’s cock settled into the crease of Sam’s ass and he allowed himself to roll up against him, but stepped back when it proved to be too little. He needed to be _in_ Sam…now.

The _snick_ of the cap on the lube was loud in the small room and Sam knew what was coming. He slowed his strokes and squeezed the base of his shaft, stemming any thought of orgasm until Dean was ready, too. When he felt the press of slick fingers at his hole, he pushed back. “Dean…” he gasped. “So fuckin’ close. Just do it…please.”

Dean growled as Sam bucked back into his fingers. The man was still loose from last night, but he didn’t want to hurt him. He tucked a second finger in and scissored both digits in and out. “Hang on, gotta do it right. Not gonna hurt you.”

“Dean, _oh, god…_ ” Dean’s fingers slipped over Sam’s prostate just then and Sam’s arms began to shake as he tried to support himself on the counter; he could feel his legs wanting to buckle beneath him. “Now,” he nearly mewled.

Dean pulled his fingers out and grabbed the bottle of lube again. Less than a minute later, he was fully sheathed in Sam’s heat. He didn’t bother taking his time.

“Fuck, yeah. S’good, Dean.” Sam leaned down and pushed back against his lover giving the man better access. Pleasure immediately swirled through Sam’s body as the man’s cock found his sensitive bundle of nerves after only a few thrusts. The orgasm Sam had tried to hold back on earlier surged through him. He cried out and felt himself clench tightly around Dean as he lost it.

Dean grunted when Sam’s muscles clamped vice-like around his length. His steady rhythm was lost as he felt Sam shatter below him. The man’s body trembled at the shock of his release and Dean could already feel his climax approaching. It was so sudden that it caught him off guard. _If sex with Sam was going to be like this…_ He pulled out slowly and slammed back in, forcing a breath out of Sam. Several more of the same and Dean gave a guttural groan as his balls tightened and he poured everything he had into Sam as his peak consumed him.

It was quick and dirty, but so worth it. Dean found Sam’s eyes in the mirror and kissed him on the shoulder as he pulled out. “We are so gonna make a habit out of that.”

~ * ~

They finally made it to the kitchen. (Not that either was opposed to some spontaneous sex.) Sam poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and got Dean one as well while the older man pulled out some bowls, spoons, and a couple of boxes of cereal.

Sam looked at Dean as he sipped from his mug. (If there was one thing from the human world he really enjoyed, it was coffee…with lots of sugar and cream.) “I was thinking that maybe in the next couple of days we could go down to the lake and see how you do there. I could teach you to swim in your piscine form and help you adjust to being underwater.” Sam found that he was excited to start showing Dean how to transition over to being comfortable in his second form.

Dean stopped eating, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Whoa, one thing at a time, Sam. I’m gonna need to get my sea legs first.” The idea of being underwater without air…yeah, no. Not yet anyway.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to, you know…” Sam took another sip of his coffee.

Dean nodded. He hadn’t given much thought to actually going to the lake. Really, during all of his ‘thinking’ prior to his change into a Limnade, he’d only thought about how he could avoid the change and remain _human_ as much as he could. Sure, showers had to happen, but that had been the extent of his thought process as far as voluntarily changing was concerned. A good part of that was blown out of the water (no pun intended) when Sam had mentioned last night that Limnades _had_ to change on a regular basis or they would get sick or whatever. He could only wonder what other surprises were going to suddenly pop up.

They finished eating breakfast and Dean cleaned off the table, putting the cereal away and collected their dishes with the intention of washing them.

“Dean!” Sam shouted just as the man turned on the water.

Sam’s shout scared the crap out of Dean, but then he realized what he was doing. “Dammit!” he growled under his breath as he turned off the water. “This is gonna take some gettin’ used to. Looks like you’re on dishwashing duty from now on. Guess there’s worse things.” The hunter grinned. Dean gestured to Sam’s Marks then. “Am I ever gonna get myself a set of those? They seem kinda handy to have.”

Sam’s eyes fell to the dark patterns spiraling down his bare arms. He should probably be happy that he had them now, especially since it looked like he’d be spending a lot more time in the human world with Dean. “Sorry,” he shook his head ‘no’, “it’s a bloodline thing.”

“Well, that sucks. So you’re tellin’ me I’m stuck hiding from water for the rest of my life?”

“I wouldn’t say that. You know, you could embrace your other half. It’s not that bad.”

Dean leaned up against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to ‘embrace’ it. I’m human, Sam.”

“Not anymore,” Sam replied quietly.

The words reverberated in Dean’s head. “Yeah, guess not, huh.” His response was nearly inaudible and was somewhat despondent.

“Dean, I know I’ve asked you this before, but _are_ you gonna be okay? I mean, I know you know there’s no turnin’ back.”

“Sam, it’s been less than twenty-four hours since I passed the point of no return. It’s still settling in.” Dean stared blankly down at the floor in front of his feet. After the space of a few silent minutes, he looked up at Sam. “I’m gonna go for a ride later; you’re welcome to come along. I don’t know where to, but I need to get outta here for a while.” Driving was just one of those things that made him feel better; it was therapeutic, the feel of the road under the wheels of his baby. It had been nearly a month since Dean had been anywhere more than an hour away in the car. And he needed a _real_ ride, something that would take him away from all of this, even if it was just for a day. Bobby’s place came to mind. Maybe they could swing by and drop off that case of beer he’d been meaning to give the man.

“Yeah, I’m up for a ride if that’s what you need.” Sam knew that Dean, with his upbringing as a hunter, would need time to accept what he was now; it wasn’t going to be easy. He got up and brought his coffee cup to the sink to begin washing up. “I’m assuming you want to shower before we leave,” he said as he started to fill the sink with water. “D’you still want me in there, or are you okay now that you’ve already had your first shift?”

Dean turned and circled his arms around Sam’s waist, tucking his hands up to feel the heat of his lover’s flesh and rested his cheek between the younger man’s shoulder blades. “I think I’ll be alright, but I’m not opposed to you stopping in when you’re done out here. We can head out after.”

Sam turned his head and kissed Dean over his shoulder. “Okay, just give a yell if you need me or have any questions.”

Dean reluctantly peeled himself away from Sam’s warmth and turned to go to the bathroom. As he came to the doorway, he stopped and took a deep breath. He squared his shoulders then and stepped in, closing the door behind him.

He stripped out of his pants and turned to face the tub, hesitating before reaching down to turn the water on. The hunter shook his head in irritation at himself. _Come on, Dean, you’re being a big goddamn wuss._ He spun the knob and sat on the edge of the bathtub until it filled.

A knock sounded on the door just as Dean was getting the nerve up to slide into the water. “Dean?”

“What?”

“Y’good in there?”

“I feel like Little Nemo, but yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

Dean’s eye caught the sparkle of the water and he stared at it; it was if it was calling out to him. He was startled out of his almost hypnotic gaze when he felt Sam’s hand rest on his shoulder.

“You feel it, the pull of the water?”

The hunter nodded.

“It’s another thing you’ll get used to. It’s a lot stronger at the lake.”

When Dean looked up at Sam, he saw that the man was naked. “Wha-”

Sam stepped around Dean and slipped comfortably into the water, settling down and spreading his legs to make room for the man. “C’mere.” He reached a hand out and waited for Dean to take it. A short span of seconds ticked by before Dean took it and climbed into the tub with him.

Almost immediately Dean felt the familiar tingle from this morning. He watched, entranced, as his legs became a tail once more. When the shift was complete, he lay back against Sam, sighing, and closed his eyes as the man’s arms came around to rest over his chest.

“Aren’t you gonna…you know…go all mermaid, too?” Dean asked after a few minutes; he tilted his head up so he could see the man. Now that Dean knew what the change entailed, he was eager to see Sam in his natural form again.

Sam grinned into the kiss he pressed to Dean’s temple, and then gave him a tap on the upper arm. “You’ll have to get off my lap. It’s easier if you’re not sitting between my legs.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Dean scooted over and dropped his eyes down to Sam’s legs. He’d only seen the man once in his piscine form and, as he recalled, it had been a thing of beauty. He wasn’t let down as Sam’s long legs came together as his had done and formed into a thick, muscular tail.

Dean slipped his hand below the water and caressed the smooth surface of the man’s tail. If he looked closely, he could still see the Marks on it, but they were almost lost in the dark coloring of the scales.

“I saw you like this once before, you know, before you left to go home.” Dean looked up to see Sam’s reaction. The man seemed surprised. “Yeah, it was while you were still healing from the hunters. I was scared to look, afraid that once I saw you like this, I wouldn’t want you anymore, but I _had_ to see you. Otherwise it wasn’t real.” Dean’s hand found where the scales ended and flesh began and remained there, fingers drifting over the soft skin. His words were soft as he thought back to that day. “But it wasn’t like that. I thought you were gorgeous. I wanted you so much more after I saw you.” He rested his cheek against Sam’s chest, hearing the man’s steady heartbeat below him. “I have no regrets. As long as I get to have you, then I can deal with this.” He flapped his tailfin at the foot of the tub.

“Well, I’m happy you think I’m worth it.” Sam’s lips tugged up into a grin and he threaded his fingers through Dean’s sand-colored hair. He sighed after a while. “You know, my father is going to want to see us. He needs to do the whole ‘Mark of Unity’ thing still.” Sam decided to hold off on telling Dean that that would have to be done soon. He didn’t want to upset the man any more than he already was. For now, Sam would tread lightly.

“Awesome, I have in-laws now,” Dean muttered. “You know, I told your dad you’re a better kisser than he is. I might’ve gotten our relationship off to a bad start.”

What started off as a low rumble under Dean’s ear slowly became a full-bodied laugh. “Holy shit! Really? Wow. I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten away with insulting my father like that and lived to tell about it. That’s definitely a first.”

“Well, he’s gonna have to get used to it. I’m not gonna change who I am just because I’m suddenly his son-in law. – Well, actually I guess I did, but… – Hey, if he’s a demigod, what does that make you?”

“What do you think, Dean? You’re a hunter; you know about this stuff.”

~ * ~

It only took a week before Sam coerced Dean into going to the lake. He may have been a little underhanded on how he did it, but he felt the end justified the means. The seasons were turning and Orestes wouldn’t have the patience to wait until spring came around. Once autumn was in the air, travel between the two worlds became very limited until the weather began to warm again.

Dean had been in the middle of getting dressed when Sam spoke. He slammed the closet door shut, spinning around to face the younger man who was sprawled out lazily on the bed with a smug grin on his face. Dean couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “You’re gonna what?” he asked, shirt halfway down his midriff. (He may have yanked the material over his head a little too roughly and heard a thread or two pop somewhere.)

“Do you really need me to repeat it? No. Sex.”

Dean’s mind quickly worked out the math and a sly smirk appeared suddenly; his green eyes gleamed with a hint of playful challenge. He couldn’t believe Sam was pulling this stunt, but he’d show him Dean Winchester wasn’t one to be played. He had some tricks of his own up his sleeve. “Well, two can play at that game.”

“Try me,” Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean even as the corner of his lip tilted up with a smile he was trying to hide. This was something he wouldn’t back down from. And then he may have kicked the blanket off his nude form…accidentally, of course.

The two men got dirty with each other after that, each pushing the other to their limits, to the point that they’d almost give in…but neither did.

Until they woke up on the sixth day.

~ * ~

“Goddammit, Sam! Enough of this.” Dean had just been woken up by Sam’s hand slowly stroking his cock. “Fine, I’ll go for a swim in the damn lake if that’s what it takes to make you happy. You win. Are you satisfied?” Dean felt like he had the worst fucking case of blue balls…EVER. Sam was constantly doing shit that drove him crazy and hand jobs weren’t cutting it. He needed the real thing…and soon.

Those delicious dimples appeared at the corners of Sam’s mouth as he grinned in triumph. But he also knew what Dean was thinking as the older man rolled over and ground his hard-on into his thigh. “No, Dean,” Sam said as he pulled away. “No sex until _after_.”

“Aw, c’mon. Just once and I promise…” Yeah, maybe Dean was begging…just a little.

“Nope, sorry.” If Dean was a quick learner, as Sam was confident he would be, they would achieve what they needed to before coming back later tonight.

“Fuck,” Dean muttered. He climbed out of bed and went to his bureau to pull out a pair of jeans. “C’mon then. Let’s just get this over with.”

Sam was still smiling. This was a huge hurdle and he was exceedingly proud of himself for finding Dean’s weakness. (And he knew the sex afterwards would be awesome.)

As Dean was leaving the bedroom, he called back over his shoulder, “This, in no way, means I’m visiting your family today.”

~ * ~

Taking to the water and swimming in his piscine form came almost naturally to Dean. It had only taken about twenty minutes of sinking under the surface and swallowing more of the lake than he really wanted to before Dean started getting the hang of it and from there he took off. He had to admit that Sam was a damn good teacher.

Dean may have had the whole swimming thing down now, but he still flat out refused to go underwater for any length of time. The idea of being down there without air, even if his new anatomy was built to handle it, still freaked him out more than just a little. Dean knew it was all in his head, that he’d be perfectly fine, but it went against every human instinct he had; something like that didn’t just change overnight. He wasn’t ready for that step just yet.

“C’mon, just do it,” Sam pushed from where he was swimming only feet away from Dean.

“No,” came Dean’s obstinate reply. He and Sam were pretty far out from the shoreline, on the other side of the large, wooded island in the middle of the lake as a matter of fact – it was farther out than he’d ever swum before in his human form – and Dean eyed the dry land which he was familiar with; he was ready to go back to the house. As he turned to swim to shore, Dean noticed a sudden movement from Sam’s direction. “Shit! Sam, no!” He knew, with all of his training as a hunter, he was more than capable of handling himself on land, but his Limnade form was too new for him and the younger man had the upper hand on him.

Sam got the jump on Dean. More than likely, the older man was going to be pissed at him, but he’d get over it. Sam moved fast and grabbed Dean by the shoulders. He shifted his weight up and pushed the hunter down. Using the strength of his tail and his lifetime of experience, he drove the man deep into the water.

Dean took a big, gulping breath of air just as he was shoved under. He fought against Sam as the younger man pushed him down, struggling hard in his grip, lashing out with his tail (at one point, he knew he connected solidly with Sam’s body somewhere, even felt a little bad for it), but for all his effort, he got nowhere. Sam moved too fluidly in the water, was too at home here; Dean had no way to compete with the other man.

Sam held onto Dean; he was surprised at the man’s strength and this sudden idea was proving to be a little more difficult than he thought it would be, especially when Dean’s tail swung around and knocked the wind from him. It was no simple task, but his impromptu plan _was_ working. The hunter was focused on Sam, getting more and more furious by the second as he twisted in his unyielding grasp, and, all the while, Dean was forgetting one thing: they’d been underwater far longer than any human could survive. He’d forgotten about the lack of air while he had been struggling against Sam’s hold and had allowed his Limnade form to take over.

Suddenly, a bright light came into view and Dean ceased fighting. He pulled his angry glare from Sam to look at it, blinking his eyes at the near-blinding light; it took a minute for them to adjust to the sight in front of him. What he saw amazed him. It was an underwater city…buildings as far as the eye could see, all gleaming brightly under the brilliant rays of light shimmering through the clear water. If he looked closely, he could see others of Sam’s kind swimming in the distance.

Sam released his hold on Dean and allowed himself to float on a current of water beside the man. _“Home.”_

Dean jumped and looked over at Sam as the word formed in his head. _Awesome. Now I’m going crazy,_ he thought to himself. As he floated freely in the water, Dean realized what Sam had done by dragging him under the water the way he had. The younger man had been keeping him too distracted for him to panic about the lack of oxygen. – Dean didn’t know the mechanics of it, but he hadn’t drowned…was perfectly fine actually. – But he was still furious with Sam; it was only natural when it felt like someone was trying to drown you. Once they got back to the cabin, they were going to be having a long discussion about how you didn’t just do that to people.

_“Dean?”_

_“What?” – What the hell? –_ “ _Wait, how are you in my damn head?”_ Dean thought back to Sam. At least that’s how he assumed this communication thing worked.

_“When we’re in this form, we can communicate with each other telepathically as well as with the other Limnades. – I didn’t want to put too much on you before so I kept myself closed off those few times we were in this form together. I knew you had enough to deal with.”_

_“Well, gee, thanks for that. But you know what? I’m still seriously pissed at you right now. What you did just now? That was just so far from right.”_

_“I’m sorry about that.”_ Dean could _feel_ how guilty Sam felt for what he’d done. _“Forgive me?”_ Sam looked pleadingly at him with wide, puppy-dog eyes.

 _“Yeah, well…just don’t go pullin’ shit like that again. I might not be so forgiving next time.”_ And then Dean smiled and asked, _“So that’s your home?”_ He gestured to the city off in the distance with his chin.

Sam nodded. _“Yes. We call it ‘Pol_ _í_ _k_ _á_ _to ap_ _ó_ _ti l_ _í_ _nmi’. It quite literally means ‘City Under the Lake’.”_

Dean could see Sam looking at the doorway to his world with longing in his eyes. _“You miss it.”_ It was a statement, not a question.

Sam had to make himself pull his eyes away from his home. He knew Phileas was out there somewhere; he missed his brother. _“I do.”_

Dean was torn. The city in front of him was so foreign to him. – It may as well have been an entirely different planet. – He looked between it and Sam. The younger man looked so at home underwater, his long hair flowing around his head, his tail gently moving in the currents of the water as he kept himself in place; his features were aglow from the light of his home showing through the magical doorway. This was where Sam belonged, at least a good part of him, and Dean had no right to deprive him of that.

The hunter swam up to his life mate and took his hand in his own. _“Well, c’mon then. You can show me around…maybe even show me how great fish-sex can be.”_ That patented ‘Dean’ smirk appeared again.

Sam thought he’d heard Dean wrong; he had been lost in thoughts and memories of his homeworld. He looked down at Dean’s hand in his, their fingers laced tightly together, then up at the man. _“What?”_

 _“You heard me.”_ Dean squeezed Sam’s hand – he could _sense_ Sam’s surprise – and then he suddenly darted forward to kiss the younger man. It wasn’t rushed, more lazy and gentle as their lips glided together. “ _I love you and I wanna see where you come from,”_ he said as they separated.

A smile lit up Sam’s features before he launched himself at Dean, sending them tumbling through the water as he wrapped his arms around the man in a strong embrace. _“God, I love you, too.”_ He was giddy with excitement to be going home; he really hadn’t thought Dean would be ready for this so soon.

 _“But you gotta promise me one thing though,”_ Dean said when he finally sorted out his up from his down.

_“Yeah? And what’s that?”_

_“I wanna be back by dinnertime. There’s a two-for-one on bacon cheeseburgers down at Harley’s Diner today…Tuesday, you know. They’ve got the best burgers around.”_

Sam arched his brow and then he doubled over with laughter. Dean and his food. _“Dude, food porn much?”_

_“You don’t know the half of it. – Now come on.”_

The two men…Limnades…swam through the doorway, their silhouettes fading into the distance. Behind them, the portal sealed itself shut until such time as they felt the need to return. And if Dean got his way, that would be around six o’clock tonight.

 

  

**_The End_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed and look forward to any comments, good or bad. And don't forget to hit that kudos button if you liked the fic...even just a little ;)
> 
> And a shout out to [RiatheMai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RiatheMai/pseuds/RiatheMai) for her help in putting this together. Here's another slice of pie for you ;)
> 
> This story turned out a lot different than I thought it would, but I think it's moved up to my fav :)
> 
>  
> 
> **NEW** I've added my e-mail to my profile. If anyone should like to contact me for anything, please feel free to drop me a line :)


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